Blades of Blood
by Vathara
Summary: In a world where monsters roam city streets, a mildmannered New Yorker has just picked up a blade called Battousai... Modern AU, based off the NightLife RPG. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

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Blades of Blood

A/N: Rurouni Kenshin, stray bits of Law and Order: CI, and NightLife (the RPG of Urban Horror) belong to their respective creators. No infringement intended.

Somewhere in the shadowed caverns of my mind, a Rabid Plot Bunny Generator is cackling in mad, savage glee. I have no other possible explanation for this. _Listens to crickets chirp._ Right. Somehow I knew people weren't going to believe that one...

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'Telepathy' - and let's hope the site lets _this_ version work...

* * *

Throbbing pain in his left arm. A stitch in his side. Breath raw and rapid in his lungs, as he tore down the night-dark sidewalk, dodging bits of litter and the odd stray drunk with the same blind panic.

And in his fist, the inexplicable weight of a sword.

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"Run, little Herd! Run as long as he'll let you!"

Eyes inhuman black, then glowing green with insane laughter.

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"I want to kill the Hitokiri Battousai!"

Blood. So much blood...

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'Right. Turn right. Here. Now!'

Alien, chill; the thought cut through his panic like a January gust through a summer jacket. He jumped, feet dashing into the dark alley before he could think twice. And halted twenty feet in, rational thought crashing back into life. _What am I thinking - even in Mr. Tani's part of town, this is a bad idea-_

'Easy. We're alone; I'd sense it if we weren't. Turn around. Look out. Carefully.'

He swallowed dryly. That was it. He'd finally cracked, the way some whispered his mother had-

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'If she died shooting in this city yelling about werewolves, there is an excellent chance she was not _crazy. As I would have thought you just saw. Though given that I'm still humoring you while my partner is bleeding back there - just do it!'_

Shuddering, he went back to the edge of the alley. Peered out, just in time to see blue and red lights wail by.

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'Police. And neither of us wants those, right now.' There was the sense of a sigh. _'From what you remember seeing, he wasn't that badly hurt. I'll just have to trust Sanosuke to handle the cover-up at Tani's. You're in no condition to handle cops, much less Target Alpha agents, and given that you are all over blood... I'm going to have enough trouble keeping us from drawing attention as it is.'_ Humor glinted in the chill, like starlight off ice. _'At least you brought my saya.'_

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Saya? He blinked as the foreign word nestled into his brain, a shape of iron and lacquer and cords of silk he'd gripped in his bloodied left hand, curving along his arm where that fury of fangs and fur had gnawed on him, glutting itself on his pain...

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:Breathe. Just breathe.: Ice thawed a fraction. _:What's your name:_

"Kenshin," he whispered, knowing it was crazy. "Kenshin Himura. I'm an antiques dealer, that I am. I was only delivering a book to Mr. Tani. He ordered it a month ago, he paid extra for the late-night service..." There was no one here. You couldn't hear voices if no one was there. Not and stay sane.

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You've been bitten by a werewolf, Kenshin thought, feeling the fever heat in his left arm. _Crazy looks pretty good right now, that it does._

'Kenshin. Arigatou.'

Thank you? Kenshin thought, remembering the little Japanese he'd picked up from his father and stepmother. _And I thought it was the Irish half of me that was crazy._

'Yes, you are infected. No, you will not become a werewolf. Not if I can help it.' The chill was brisk. _'But that means you're going to have to hang onto me long enough for me to burn out the virus. And that means we can't draw attention - so you'll have to sheathe me. After you clean me, preferably.'_

Clean... Kenshin stared at the red-streaked blade. Now... now he could feel more than just that red rush of pain as the werewolf had gnawed at his life. There was just a flicker of memory, panic and fingers fumbling along blood-soaked plush carpet and the odd rasp of braided cords and rough leather of a hilt, and then-

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'Not bad for a raw beginner,' the cool voice of the blade noted. _'Then again, being an amateur probably saved your life. A little experience, and you would have flipped the blade before you slit its throat. And given I'm a sakabatou, you_ would _be dead.'_

Reverse-bladed sword. The sword he'd taken from a bullet-riddled corpse whose hair had been some odd shade of red-blond, almost seeming to lighten as he watched, before that black-eyed madman had descended on him and he'd had other things to watch. Such as the sword that had teased along his neck, before the laughing swordsman had leapt out the window and disappeared.

And he'd run. He'd just - run.

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'His name is Jin-e. And you are not _a coward. Kami, you obviously don't know anything about Kin, you just saw half Tani's thugs reveal themselves as vampires and weres, the other half were throwing bullets everywhere regardless of any humans in the vicinity, and that doesn't even count Sanosuke and his combination rounds. It was one of_ Tani's _idiots who decided to eat an inconvenient witness - you. And given that you killed their packmate, even Sano might not have been able to save you from the rest of them. Running from that is not cowardice. It's a tactical retreat.'_

It felt like cowardice.

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'You'll learn.' A feeling of a shrug. _'They call me Battousai.'_

Violet eyes widened in alarm. "_You're_ the one Jin-e is after." Kenshin swallowed dryly, strongly tempted to drop saya, sword, and all. "Why didn't he just take you?"

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'Now that... is a long story. Let's get out of sight first, ne?'

"I don't know how to clean-"

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'I do.'

And his hands weren't his own any more.

As if from a distance, Kenshin watched them work; clumsy at first, but gaining confidence as they rubbed blood off steel with what was left of his shredded jacket.

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'I don't think you would have wanted to hang onto that, anyway,' Battousai observed. _'We'll have to do a more thorough job later, but this will do to get us home.'_ He drew the blade across the mouth of the saya, sliding it home in one swift move. _'Where is home?'_

Just that suddenly, his hands answered his own will. Kenshin fumbled the saya, almost dropping the sheathed blade as he tried to shake the odd tingle out of arms and fingers. "Don't do that!"

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'...I'll ask, next time.'

"There's not going to be a next time!"

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'Are you going to keep shouting in a dark alley in Chinatown's high-rent district, right next door to the Yakuza and still in scenting range of Tani's penthouse if Jin-e left any of those weres alive, or are you going to get us out of here?'

Wincing, Kenshin tucked the sword under his left arm. "This has to be a Tuesday," the battered antiques dealer muttered under his breath, heading back to the street and some semblance of New York sanity. "I could never get the hang of Tuesdays."

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'I thought it was Friday... ah, Arthur Dent!' A soundless laugh. _'Sanosuke loves that one.'_

He shoots and reads science fiction? Kenshin thought, heading for home at a tired trot. Not that he wanted Battousai plucking thoughts out of his head, but he wanted someone overhearing him even less.

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'As Sano once put it, spend your time dealing with incubi and succubi racking up prostitution charges, toxic sludges lurking in pools to hunt people's poodles, and cranky werewolf bikers out to maim, loot, or eat everyone in sight, you kind of lose your taste for horror movies.'

Horror movies. Things out of horror movies... were real.

And deadly.

And wanted to kill him.

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'Kenshin.' The cool wrapped him, like a silken shawl. _'I_ will _sense a Kin before it can get close enough to hurt you. You're as safe as anyone in New York. Let's just go home. You need to get off the streets; and if I'm going to finish burning out that infection, you need sleep. We'll sort it out in the morning.'_

...All right.

* * *

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I'm never going to make it past the doorman, Kenshin thought, despairing as he hovered near the front door of his apartment building. _I don't know how I got through the streets this far, but - there's light in there. There's no way he can miss the blood._

'Then we don't go through the front door.'

Kenshin winced. So much for Battousai being a figment of his imagination. The sword had been silent as he'd walked the streets, he'd hoped... damn. _There isn't any other way in!_

'Are you sure?' The chill was almost encouraging. _'I know it's been a bad night, but I can hear you working your way past the panic. Which is more than most could do. You're an observant young man. Are you_ sure _there's no other way in?'_

I- well-

'Good. Let's go.'

Almost against his will, Kenshin circled the building, heading for a little-used fire escape. "I'm not sure I can do this," he whispered. "I've thought about it, and I'm almost certain Yahiko has done it, but I've never... and, well, you've no idea how clumsy I am, that you do not."

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'You won't know if you don't try.'

True enough. Kenshin eyed the black metal rungs so far out of reach, gathered his nerve-

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'Wait.' The tingle was back, ghosting up from his hand to his eyes. _'Let me get a good look.'_

Details seemed to fade in like dawning sunlight; a sense of how far, how difficult to grab, what the jerk at the end of his arms would feel like when his weight pulled steel down.

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'Your arm's going to hurt when you do this,' Battousai warned. _'Don't let go. I can block some of the pain, and I promise, it'll hurt a lot more if you miss.'_ A light tug at his gaze. _'Now look at your footing. See_ where you are. _Your balance isn't as bad as you think; you just never learned proper footwork. I could do this at a dead run. But you don't have to. So pick your starting point. Where do you think is a good spot?'_

Mouth dry, Kenshin scanned the alley. Gauged the distance to black steel again, and slowly stepped toward one mostly-bare patch of asphalt. "You could just take me over and do this, couldn't you."

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'I could,' the chill voice allowed. _'I won't. I'm not a ghost. I don't feed on fear. All I want is to help you, so you can help me get back to Sanosuke. Fair enough?'_

Kenshin nodded. Hesitated. Reluctantly tied the saya's silk cords to his belt. _I'm going to need two hands. But I don't know how to run with a sword, much less jump with one._

'That, I will help with. Ready?'

Not really. Tensing, he moved. Run, and _jump._

His feet left the ground, and Kenshin's heart lurched. _I'm going to miss-_

'No, you won't!' His hands reached up one hair's-breadth farther-

Closed on chill steel.

"Ow," Kenshin hissed, lost in the sudden screech as his weight dragged the rungs down. The swing of steel jarred through his small frame, setting the bitten arm ablaze with pain. "Ow, ow, ow..."

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'Sano would be turning the air blue.' Something shivered in his arm, and the fiery ache dimmed. _'Come on.'_

"Yahiko can do this," Kenshin muttered through gritted teeth, clambering upward. "You're older, more experienced..." He stopped a few floors up, gathering his breath. "...Out of shape..."

Battousai was blessedly silent.

Kenshin made his weary way to the pot-filled balcony, breathing in the green scent of tomato plants and one lone scented daylily, stopping to blink a second at the lock. There was something he should do here... right. Key.

Shutting the doors behind him, Kenshin staggered into the apartment's living room. And almost tripped over his little brother.

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'Fell asleep watching werewolf movies, hmm?' Battousai took in the blank glow of the DVD player screen, the open disk case propped against an almost-empty bowl of popcorn, the line of drool from the mouth of the wild-haired thirteen-year-old curled under a bright blue sleeping bag on the couch.

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Yahiko can sleep anywhere, Kenshin thought wryly, heading for the bathroom and the first aid kit. The sooner he had this blood out of sight, the better. _And given that it's summer break, make that anytime, as well._

'Summer break?' The chill sifted his thoughts. _'Ah.'_

Kenshin closed the door behind him. "Just how much can you get out of my mind?" he asked, tense.

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'Mostly what's on the surface. To look deeper would be rude.'

"And?" Kenshin demanded.

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'And unwise,' Battousai admitted. _'At the moment, you're only carrying me. Sanosuke has done as much, from time to time. Though never when I was without a host.'_

"Host?" Kenshin gulped. "Jin-e said he wanted to fight _you_. That I'd - only run as far as you let me..."

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'Jin-e is also a sword-spirit. He expects me to take you over. That's what he does; latches onto any poor fool who picks up his accursed blade, and destroys them to use their bodies.' The chill turned bitter with rage. _'But that, I will not do. I am_ hitokiri, _not a devourer of souls. Those who bear me may not like me, but they bond to me of their own choice, as Ward did. You are_ only _carrying me. I will not allow it to go any farther.'_

Kenshin swallowed, thinking of Ward's body, left behind on Tani's carpet. "You could be lying."

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'I could. I am not.' The chill eased. _'It will be easier to burn away the werewolf if you clean the wound, Kenshin.'_

Water was a cold shock to fevered flesh; Kenshin rinsed blood down the drain, trying not to think about the dull ache in his left arm. He'd felt something like that before, after a playground tussle gone wrong.

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'Yes, the bone cracked. Wolf jaws can break far tougher bones with ease. He must have wanted to draw out the pain. Greedy fool.' The ache faded slightly, wrapped in itching tingles. _'I believe it will be whole by dawn. If you rest.'_

Pouring disinfectant over the raw flesh, Kenshin winced. Bound it up with gauze and padding, wondering if he should just give in and find an emergency room. Rubbed his eyes, checking in the mirror to see how much shadow ringed them.

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'Oh.'

Kenshin blinked. That was - surprise? Why?

Wait. If Battousai was reading his surface thoughts... and he'd tugged at Kenshin's gaze when he wanted to see something... _You didn't even know what I looked like!_

'I have other senses, but yes. I only see what you see.' A tentative touch in his thoughts. _'May I?'_

Biting his lip, Kenshin looked in the mirror again. Shoved dark bangs aside, so Battousai could get a good look at the wide violet eyes that had startled so many. Dark brows and lashes stood out against an Irish-pale complexion, high Asian cheekbones sweeping down to a distinctly not Asian pointed chin. _Neither fish nor fowl, as Grandma Kathleen put it,_ he thought ruefully. _Guess that's why I never stay long outside New York._

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'Why, you're small!' A soundless laugh. _'No wonder everything looked so high!'_

Five-foot-two and constantly in danger of being stepped on, yes, he _knew_ that. Bristling, Kenshin opened his mouth to snap at the sword-

And stopped. That hadn't been a derisive laugh. More... recognition?

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'Small and slight is far better in my line of work. I may have had oversized hosts in the past, but that wasn't my choice.' A wistful humor touched the chill. _'Would you mind very much letting me look through you until we reach Sanosuke? I miss seeing the world from its proper angle.'_

"Ah..." Kenshin shrugged helplessly, uneasy. Winced at the pull of blood on what was left of his clothes. "Can I leave you there long enough for a shower?"

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'Make it short. Lycanthropy's one of the easiest Kin infections to pass along. If I don't stay on top of it, you will _regret it.'_

On the other hand, maybe carrying an inhabited sword into the kitchen wasn't such a bad idea. Just to get the plastic wrap to cover his bandages. _I should have showered, then cleaned the wound. Oh well..._

* * *

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Sanosuke must be climbing the walls, Battousai thought. The sheathed sakabatou rested safe and dry on the bathroom counter, absently aware of the ghostly feel of hot water drumming on Kenshin's skin. _Worse than that, he's probably going to have a GPS ready to jam into my saya the minute I get back. And then I'll have to arrange with my next host to lose it, and he'll yell at me again..._

The beat of hot droplets changed its angle, a cold draft angling against wet skin as hot water continued to pour through wet hair. Pain bit into bare knees, the rough grid of a mat meant to keep feet from slipping. Water dripped past lips, out of the shower's rhythm, bearing a faint, bitter taste of salt.

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Oh hells. I should've known it would hit him now. 'Kenshin.'

A ragged breath. More salt. Chill of wet tile pressing against a right hand, as the chin dipped toward the knees. Muscles trembled, a heart shivering with shock, mind lost in a flood of bloody images no longer suppressed by adrenaline and Battousai's subtle influence.

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Oh no you don't! Battousai reached out through the thin threads of magic already binding him to the man. Willing host or not, Kenshin had killed with him.

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And as my host wields me, so may I wield him.

'Kenshin. Stand up. Get warm.'

Muscle and bone resisted. The human mind quailed away from him, drowning in self-loathing. _I killed that man_, echoed around him. _I killed him..._

Man. Not monster. Battousai admired the sentiment, but now was _not_ the time. _'Think of Yahiko!'_

"What...?"

Time to be ruthless. _'If you give up now, the werewolf will take over. You might survive that. You just might_ eat _Yahiko in the process. Get up!'_

Slowly, the man got to his feet. "You don't understand!"

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'Oh, I do understand. More than you know.' Battousai concealed his relief. Kenshin was warmer now, farther from shock, but the balance was still too delicate to risk. _'You took his life. You took his future. Everything he was, everything he might have been, you took out of this world. And I helped.'_

A fist clenched on a washcloth. "And you expect me to live with that."

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'Yes.' Battousai drove it home, drawing recklessly on what already linked them. _'Or you make his life,_ and _his death, worth_ nothing. 

Hesitation. "I don't understand."

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'He chose _to attack you, Kenshin. He chose to try to kill you. A werewolf against an unarmed civilian; he might as well have gone after you with one of your modern rocket launchers. He chose to consider a human as no more than prey. A "Herd". He chose to forget that he was human once, as well._

'He chose murder. You chose self-defense.

'Live. And grieve. The day you don't grieve, that you don't - regret what must be done - that is the day all that is human in you truly dies.'

The water turned off.

If a sword could breathe, Battousai would have held his breath, waiting in silence as a towel scrubbed down skin, squeezing water out of thick hair. White terrycloth slipped around Kenshin's body, distracted fingers knotting the robe around him. Bare footsteps approached the counter.

And a hand closed on the saya.

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Thank the kami. 'Stay calm,' Battousai said briskly. _'I need to check your arm.'_

He swept magic outward through human nerves, feeling the dark burn of the werewolf's curse. Lycanthropic virus, magical infection - Target Alpha could call it whatever they wanted. He knew a curse when he saw one.

This one was hanging on by its clawed fingernails, but he could already see it was losing the fight. Kenshin's will itself might have beat it back. Maybe.

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'You'll be fine, if you hang onto me for the night,' Battousai informed his current bearer. _'Now, about Sanosuke-'_

"Tell me about the Kin."

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'Kenshin-'

"All I know about Sanosuke is that he was shooting at Jin-e." Kenshin's voice was low, but there was steel under the gentleness. "I don't know who you are. I don't know what you are. You people - creatures - were all trying to kill each other in Mr. Tani's house. I want to know why."

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'Fair enough.' Battousai sighed. _'It's going to be a long story. Why don't we get your brother settled for the night? You know, he really doesn't look that much like you...'_

Kenshin stiffened slightly, then shook his head, tying the saya to his belt before he opened the bathroom door. "His mother was our father's second wife. She was Japanese, too."

And very proud of it, Battousai sensed. He knew his people of old, all their pride and disdain for outsiders; though some of that had softened among those who lived in this country. It still couldn't have been the easiest thing for a young boy of mixed heritage to deal with. _'Was?'_

"Traffic accident." Kenshin shrugged, scooping up a silky bundle of sleeping bag and snoring youngster. "We've been on our own most of a year, now. He's learning to live with it-"

Papers fluttered out from under the boy, a cascade of oddly familiar images to the floor. Battousai echoed Kenshin's blink. _'Are those-?'_

"Oh gods, he found them." Blushing furiously, Kenshin lugged the boy into a small bedroom; an almost unbroken morass of clothes, models, and video-games, except for one mostly-clear corner by the closet.

Battousai took advantage of Kenshin's glance over the one neat set of shelves in the room; shinai, a few sets of gi and hakama, practice padding, and one or two instruction books. _'He practices kenjutsu, and you don't?'_

"Kendo," Kenshin said firmly, tucking Yahiko under the covers and stepping back. "Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. It's focussed on self-defense, not just sword-work. He was so angry... he was getting into fights at school, since - well, since. I don't think he started all of them, but I couldn't reach him, I-" Kenshin shook his head, dismissing a twinge of remorse. "I can't be with him all the time, I don't always know when he's in trouble. And it seemed to help."

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'So why do you _have hakama tying instructions?'_ Battousai held back a laugh as they headed back into the main apartment. _'You have hakama?'_

"I didn't want him to know..." The blush was an almost-fiery burn. "I thought - Halloween - well-"

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'Oho.' Now the spirit did laugh; the feelings seeping through were unmistakable. _'There's a girl!'_

"Miss Kaoru is not 'a girl'," Kenshin gritted out, gathering up the pages. "She's an assistant master of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, the head of the dojo here, and not at all interested in a pacifist who deals with dusty antiques, modern reproductions, or modern reproductions of dusty antiques."

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'First, you're not a pacifist.'

"But-"

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'You don't like violence. I know. But a pacifist would have let that werewolf kill him. You are not _a pacifist.'_ Battousai tugged lightly at Kenshin's gaze, hoping for another glance at familiar clothing. _'Second - if she wasn't interested, she wouldn't spend hours going over catalogs with you to find just the right kinds of paper and ink to send traditional greetings to her relatives.'_

"The Kin," Kenshin said flatly.

Battousai let him change the subject. _'As long as there have been humans, there have been Things in the night. Creatures that feed on human flesh, or fear, or souls. Call them youkai, oni, tengu; call them vampire, werewolf, daemon. Call them the children of your nightmares. The ones who interact with humanity most often, who can pass for human among careless eyes, call themselves Kin.'_

Kenshin padded into his own bedroom. "And they feed on us."

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'Some more than others. It's not a choice, Kenshin. They can choose not to kill, they can choose not to do serious harm, but a Kin who doesn't feed on humans once in a while tends to go berserk. Still, most Kin were human once, and they usually live and let live. Those that don't... well, they can do a lot of damage. And that's where Target Alpha comes in.'

"You and Sanosuke."

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'We're field agents, yes. Sometimes we break up fights between Kin factions before innocent bystanders get hurt. Sometimes we arrange a cover-up when a Kin who's usually under control slips and Edges someone in public. And then, like tonight, there are times we know a crime is about to be committed, and we try to stop it.' Battousai followed Kenshin's gaze around the neat bedroom, trying to guess where those pages had been hidden. Bookshelves, clothes closet with shoes precisely placed together, an out-of-the way box against the wall with a writing kit set neatly on top of it... and a certain air of disarray around it. Aha! _'Sano's human, by the way. Most Target Alpha agents are.'_

"Was Ward?"

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'Not after I bound him,' Battousai admitted. _'He knew the costs. Kin don't die of cancer. We didn't like each other, but we respected each other. I'll miss him.'_ Though not much. Ward had been a bitter man before he'd volunteered to carry the enchanted blade, and the years before his death hadn't made him any less cold. Sanosuke Sagara on his most thoughtless days was a far better friend than Joseph Ward had been. _I wonder if Sano would be willing to take me now?_

Probably not. Become Kin, and Sano's security clearance would be effectively frozen where it now stood; field agent forever. Not to mention that Triborough was an iffy division to start with. Humans and Kin working together made both sides of the fence frown. Having a human agent in Triborough _voluntarily_ become Kin... the agency wouldn't like it. Not at all.

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Which means I probably get another hopeless case. Another agent who knows I'm their only option besides a lingering death. Kami, I hate this. The night's deaths ached at him, compounded with guilt. He _hadn't_ liked Ward, and the feeling had been all too mutual. Which was fine for an uneasy partnership, but disastrous in the middle of a firefight. Especially when Jin-e had struck, and Tani's idiots had opened up with Sano right in the line of fire...

Ward had jumped for Jin-e. Battousai had lunged to protect one of the few agents who'd ever treated him as a friend. For that one heartbeat, two wills had battled for control-

Enchanted bullets ended it.

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Think of something else, Battousai told himself fiercely. Kenshin wasn't the only soul here who hated to kill. _Think of... that might work. 'You know, when it comes to hakama, there are a few tricks those pictures wouldn't show you.'_

"I'm going to bed." But Kenshin hadn't moved toward the blanket-piled twin-size.

__

'And you really think you're going to be able to sleep? 

"Not really," the young man admitted.

__

'So?'

Pale cheeks warmed. "Don't laugh," Kenshin warned, opening the box.

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'I won't. Though why would you think I'd...' Battousai got a good look at the dark red gi, white under-kimono, and off-white hakama, and bit back a chuckle. _'It's... not that bad. At least you knew enough to layer the gi. It will be chilly here, come autumn.'_

"I just know I'm going to look silly," Kenshin muttered.

__

'Attitude. It's all about attitude. Trust me?'

"I... well, yes."

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'As Sano would say, don't bowl me over, here.' Battousai ghosted himself along nerves and muscle, taking a delicate hold. _'Here. I'll show you, and your body should remember when you try it yourself. First, always remember to wrap left over right. You're not a corpse...'_

* * *

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I'm going to melt him down and use him for a paperweight, Sanosuke thought darkly, bandaging one slashed wrist as he watched Target Alpha's clean-up crew zip the late Joseph Joshua Ward into a body bag. The rest of the bodies had been sorted into "friendly fire" - most of which would wake up come next sunset, hungry, cranky, and Not His Problem - and blade-slashed - all of which had died the True Death, and weren't anyone's problem outside a crematorium. _I'm going to take a hammer to that silly reverse edge of his. I'm going to-_

Damn it, Battousai, where the hell are you?

"This one goes to the lab, right?"

The tall, spiky-haired agent glanced up from his aching wrist, searching his memory for the name to go with that earnest face. Field agents and lab guys didn't mix much. _This guy would be... Gregory. I think._ "Yeah." A waft of odor reached him from the bag. "Ice might be a good idea."

"I'd heard the rumors from Medical, but I never realized how much the ENO item was holding Ward together." Agent Uramura shook his head, stepping back as Gregory and co. wheeled the remains out into the hall, door closing before the bedraggled crowd of Tani's surviving bodyguards could get more than a glimpse into this room. "I'm going to miss that man." Behind thick lenses, Uramura's eyes narrowed at the white-wearing agent. "Any sign of it?"

"Battousai's not an it," Sano said sharply, tossing the tail of his red headband back over his shoulder. _Yeah, I look like an escapee from a bad Japanese kung fu flick. You don't like it, you can go to hell._ Target Alpha's assault teams could go office-formal in their off hours all they liked. Field teams had to blend with the Kin they policed. Walk into Club AfterDark wearing a suit and tie, and you were asking to wake up in the morgue. "And no. Which doesn't make any sense."

Uramura gave him a sidelong look. "It is of extra-natural origin, after all. One of Tani's people could have-"

"Kin picks Battousai up, Kin gets fried," Sano said bluntly. "I've seen it happen. I know it's hard to wrap your head around, but that sword was made to protect humans."

The head of the assault team frowned. "By making its bearer something distinctly inhuman."

"We're talking 15th century Japanese magic, here," Sanosuke shrugged. "Like they say, you do the best you can with what you got." He walked the bloodstained carpet, smirking at the thought of Tani's cleaning bill. "Any more info on just why Tani was targeted?"

"He's Commune."

"He says." Sano rolled his eyes. He'd seen some of the diagrams in Tani's library. Commune Sorcerers didn't indulge in human sacrifice.

Of course, just having the diagrams didn't prove Tani had done it. And even if he had - Tani had power among the local Chinatown Kin. If somebody was trying to murder the guy, Target Alpha had to step in.

__

Damn it.

"I don't care how slimy he is, just being Commune isn't enough reason to get an assassin like Kurogasa after you." Sanosuke absently touched his concealed gun. Not that he really thought he was fast enough to take out Kurogasa if the bastard popped up again. But he might get lucky.

__

Jin-e Udo, Battousai had called him. Another sword-spirit. Another entity that could take over a human body, using it like Sano would a drawn blade.

__

And this one hates humans. Oh, man...

Sano shivered and sneezed, wrinkling his nose at the odor of burning blood. Some of the blood where Ward had fallen was turning black, graying into smoke as True Death took its course.

__

Wait. Only some of it?

The fight had moved from the library to the hall and back. Battousai had fallen, Sano had covered Tani's retreat with the thugs, Jin-e had frozen most of them in place with one sneering glance-

__

Scary, scary, scary _guy._ Sano shuddered. _First time I ever saw an Edge work better on Kin than humans._ Vampires and werewolves had been frozen with fear, unable to run from the slashing blade in their midst. Sano had still been moving, dragging one foot in front of the other as if he were slogging through frozen molasses, struggling to bring his gun to bear on the creature that meant to kill him. Jin-e had smirked at the sight, all but flirting with his line of fire, before raising his sword for one last strike.

And just when Sano had resigned himself to retiring the hard way, Jin-e's head had snapped up. The way Battousai's did, when the sword-spirit sensed a sudden spike in ki.

__

And he laughed, and ran back here. And then he was gone. Frowning at the bloody carpet, Sano waved at Uramura. "Anybody get photos of this?"

"Of course." The assault team leader took a minute to snag the agent in charge of photographic evidence. Shuffled through the folder for this room, and shrugged. "Just another of Jin-e's victims."

One of Tani's werewolf hirelings, fixed by True Death into human form. Stainless steel chains decked black biker leathers, bits of red were caught in human teeth, and a bearded throat gaped wide from a sword-slash.

Sano stared at the slash, willing down twinges of revulsion from his gut. He'd seen worse things since joining Target Alpha two years ago. Much worse. "Jin-e didn't kill this guy."

"Ward attacked one of the bodyguards?" Uramura glared at him. "I don't believe it."

"Ward was already dead." Sano tapped the photo. "Get a sample down to DNA. Hairboy here bit somebody."

"We have a newly infected lycanthrope in New York?" Uramura's shoulders slumped slightly, resigned.

"Not if he - or she - is still hanging onto Battousai." Sano grinned. _Did it again, buddy. I could kiss you!_

Well, maybe. If the sword had picked up a girl this time.

True alarm flashed over Uramura's face, followed by a lip-curl of disgust. "The item took a new host?"

"No!" _Dammit, he's been working with us for a few decades, people. Doesn't anyone trust him besides me?_ "Battousai wouldn't do that. Not to some poor civilian caught in the crossfire."

"Then why isn't it here?"

Sano stifled the urge to roll his eyes. "Because he _protects_ people. If a bitten human picked him up, he wouldn't let the guy put him down until the infection was done for." The field agent remembered the first time he'd been bitten; his second field assignment with Battousai, a simple follow and observe that had turned into an altercation between a pack of Goreboys, a Commune cell, and about two dozen screaming L2K fans in full vampire-wannabe black. At the end there'd been eleven bodies, two True Deaths, one newly-infected vampire, and three crash-carts full of furry bastards to haul off somewhere quiet to wait out their temporary deaths.

Sano had come out of the whole mess with three things. A concussion. An entirely new appreciation of the mental confusion of Herd caught between werewolf Fear Projection, vampiric Influence, and Inuit Madness. And enough scratches and bites to look as if he'd been skinny-dipping in the polar bear cage at the Bronx Zoo.

Once the fight had stopped, Battousai had locked his fingers on the sheathed sword, refusing to listen to agency doctors' reassurances about anti-infection shots until the sword-spirit's ki sense declared Sano clear. As the sword had bluntly put it, he wasn't about to lose a promising novice because modern science thought it could succeed where even ancient magic might fail.

__

And that's when Ward marked me. Sano's thumb absently rubbed a thin, pale scar at the base of his forefinger. Steel had tasted him there, drawing his blood into itself so Battousai would always _know_ if another Kin had touched him. One of the few times Battousai and his host had ever agreed on anything. _God. I ought to be grieving the guy. He was a good agent. Life gave him a rotten deal. He just hated Kin a little more than he hated the idea of being Battousai's host._

But try as he might, all Sano felt was - relief.

__

Focus. There's a human out there with Battousai. Poor guy. "He'll need about a day, depending on how bad the bite was. He'll be back after that."

"It had better be." Uramura headed after his team, scowling darkly. "Obviously Ward shouldn't have been the one carrying the GPS..."

__

Yeah. Not that I haven't tried, Sano thought, staring past the bloody rug. _But Battousai's been an assassin, in the past. Letting people find_ him _kind of goes against his grain. So to speak._

Hang on.

__

Battousai doesn't like to be found, Sano realized. _And if the mark's still holding, he can feel I'm in one piece, so he wouldn't be worried about me. But he knows_ I _worry about_ him. _So..._ Making his way out of the library to a quiet balcony, Sano dialed his voicemail.

__

Agency, agency, informant, telemarketer - kami, they call everywhere! Informant-

Click. "Sanosuke Sagara?"

Male, Sano catalogued the unfamiliar voice. Young, though he thought the man was past his teens. Still a little shaky, but not panicking.

"My name is Kenshin Himura. I seem to have... picked up a friend of yours," the voice went on.

__

Hesitant, but holding together. Interesting.

"He says he'll be busy with the aftermath until tomorrow morning, but after that we should arrange to meet at a neutral spot so I can return him to you." A hint of humor shone through the uncertainty. "He also says I don't have to leave my number; you can probably trace this, and it'll keep you out of trouble for the night."

__

Listening to Battousai's sense of humor and still _holding together. I think I could like this guy._

"Listen." The humor sobered out of Kenshin's voice. "I have a younger brother. He - doesn't know what happened last night. And - I don't want to tell him. I know you'll need my statement about what happened, what I... did..."

__

What he-? Sano's eyes widened as the facts fell together in his head. _K'so! Battousai can't make someone attack without a blood link. Which means-_

Kami. Himura _killed the werewolf._

"Please." Kenshin's voice wavered, tired and drawn. "Please, whatever we have to do, whatever I have to sign off on for your people... just let me leave Yahiko out of it." A sigh came over the line. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

Sano closed his cell phone, stunned. _Not good. Definitely not good._

It could be worse. Jin-e had missed. Battousai was in one piece. The human who'd picked the sword up hadn't panicked. With any luck, Sanosuke could wait 'til morning, collect his partner, and let the man go with a firm warning about what happened to humans who let on they knew about Kin.

But worry still gnawed at him.

__

Who is Kenshin Himura?

* * *

__

Hitokiri - "manslayer", assassin.  
_Battousai_ - mater of lethal sword-drawing.  
_Saya_ - sheath.  
_Arigatou_ - thank you.  
_Sakabatou_ - "reverse-blade sword".  
_Kami_ - spirit, deity.  
_Ne?_ - "Right?"  
_Shinai_ - bamboo practice sword.  
_Gi_ - top.  
_Hakama_ - skirt-like trousers; think Aikido.  
_Kenjutsu_ - "sword arts". More traditional, often thought of as having more of an emphasis on realistic techniques than kendo.  
_Kendo_ - "the way of the sword".  
_Youkai_ - "demon, wraith".  
_Oni_ - "ogre, devil".  
_Tengu_ - "goblin".  
_Ki_ - energy, aura.  
_K'so_ - "damn".

On NightLife - most of the monsters should be familiar to any horror aficionado. The key differences are that in the game setting, _all_ Kin are immortal and unaging (yes, you can have several-centuries-old werewolves running around), and a Kin can _only_ be killed if either they've been killed normally dozens of times, running out of endurance, or if their particular Bane is used. Kill a werewolf with silver, he's dead. Hit him with a car, he's dead temporarily; he'll revive the next night. Enchanted weapons usually act as Banes.


	2. Chapter 2

Blanket tucked around him, Kenshin dreamed.

__

Wet iron sand sluiced down a raw hill slope, pouring through ditches dug by gangs of sweating men. Axes thudded into trees, felling still more of the moist forest around them. The scent of charcoal hung in the air. Above the ordered chaos, a wizened man studied running sand with satisfaction. "It will be good steel."

Long black hair whispered over a red and white cloak; the tall swordsman crossed his arms. "You can tell already, hmm?"

"It will be as the kami will. But some should be of the quality you will need, ryuu-sama. 

"Shh." Dark eyes gazed down at sandy water. "You never know who's listening."

A blur; a jump. Heat. Impact. Folding, pounding, folding; a flash of white, as if glimpsed from the corner of an unseen eye.

Reluctantly, the hammer stopped. "I still say this risks the blade."

Firelight glowed on flowing black hair, glinted amber in dark blue eyes. "Says the man who's worked far more malign magics into steel."

"I won't argue that. And I won't apologize, either. Swords are made to kill; you know that as well as I."

The tall swordsman shrugged slightly, red cloak glimmering in the forge light. "I risk far more than your skill with tama-hagane, _Muramasa-san. I can only ask that you follow in the footsteps of your father, and his before him, and allow me the chance."_

"For you - yes. But such a blade..."

"It is as the fang asks."

"A sakabatou?"

"Not what most of them seek, no." Dark eyes smiled wryly, glowing gold for one brief moment. "Perhaps this one will come home."

The swordsman's strong hand reached out, pressing a curve of ivory into red-hot metal. The fang smoked; glowed. Sank into steel like water.

"Forge it well, Muramasa-san. Be careful with my child..."

Another slide, this one touched with images, feelings; heat and the thickness of clay, sharpening and a testing slash through dead flesh and bone. A warm, steady hand, dancing new steel through sun-warmed air.

The glittering pattern stopped, and he felt a laugh. "Awake at last, eh?"

Confusion. Newness. Fear, and hope, mingled as one. :

"I'm your shishou, baka deshi. _Not your bearer. Him you'll have find yourself, somewhere in the world off this mountain. But you're not ready for that. Not yet." Fingers flexed on the hilt. "Watch,_ deshi. _And feel. The heart of this you know already. Learn, and remember._

"This is the first kata of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu..."

He lost himself in the flowing movement; slow, so slow the first time, even as he sensed how it was _meant_ to move, one swift blur of silk and steel. But the first time was slow, for correctness; patient as sunlight, melting one sweet drop off a hanging icicle.

__

Yes. This way.

Quicker now. Sharper. Again, and again; finally blurring from the first kata to the second, then third, blissfully wrapped in the song of steel through the wind...

__

Wait. Something's moving.

Quiet. Familiar. Not a threat. But it was moving _outside_ the world he danced in. Outside the-

__

Dream?

"Kenshin?"

Kenshin sat up with a gasp, fingers closed on the warm lacquer covering the saya, head banging against the bedroom wall hard enough to make him wince. _What- where-_ "Yahiko?"

Dressed in loose jeans, sneakers, and lettered t-shirt a particularly violent shade of red-black, his little brother stared down at him. Looked across the room toward the unused bed, dark brows climbing toward unruly hair. "Okay. Even for you, on a Saturday, that's weird."

"I had some trouble getting to sleep, that I did," Kenshin said evasively, disentangling himself from the nest of blankets Battousai must have pulled around them in the night. He couldn't really remember trying to sleep; the last he knew, he'd been just sitting against the wall, waiting for dawn.

__

'It is an effective ward against many races of Kin,' Battousai noted. _'They call it Big Mike. As in microwave. Which should give you some idea of the effect, ne?'_

"Aa," Kenshin murmured, rising and thrusting the sheathed blade under the first winding of his obi. Battousai had been as good as his word, it seemed; he felt barely a twinge from his left arm. He shoved back the sleeve of his gi to check. _Just a little bruise. Should be gone soon. I'll barely even notice it during kata... wait. Kata? I don't know kata!_

"Heh. Yeah, you always say the late-night clients are the weird ones..." Yahiko's voice choked off.

"What is it?" Barefoot, Kenshin took a step toward his brother. "What's wrong?"

"Ah - you - um-" Yahiko pointed toward his waist.

Oops.

__

'Oh, this should be interesting to watch.'

Kenshin swallowed dryly. _You're not going to help?_

'He's your _little brother.'_ A hesitation. _'And you told Sanosuke you didn't want Yahiko to know.'_

__

Kami, no. Oh, that'd be a fine thing to tell your little brother, that it would. "Good morning, Yahiko, did you know that werewolves are real? And by the way, I killed a man last night." I think not.

Wait. Something about that thought... seemed off.

"Kenshin?" Yahiko asked, dark brown glance lifting from the inexplicable sword to his brother's pale face. "You okay? You seem a little spacey."

"More than a little," Kenshin muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Ah - someone asked me to hold onto this for a while, Yahiko. I'll be arranging to meet them later today." _I dreamed I was a sword..._

'You did?' Battousai touched the wispy images. _'Oh. Those are_ old _memories. I didn't think they'd touch you so soon.'_

Kenshin paused. _That worries you?_

__

'I didn't expect it.' Hesitance. _'Did they upset you?'_

Upset. No, he didn't feel upset, exactly. Confused. Startled. And ever so slightly - off. Like the time he'd gritted his teeth, taken a broom, and climbed a shaking ladder to sweep storm debris off a roof, trembling at the dizzying height. Only by the time he'd finished, the worst of the fear had worn away, and he could stand, and breathe...

"-Breakfast?" Yahiko waved a hand in front of his face. Shook his head, and headed for the kitchen. "Man, you really are hopeless without coffee."

__

'Coffee?' The sword's voice was suddenly hopeful.

"I'd think you'd rather have tea, that I would," Kenshin murmured under his breath, heading for the bathroom. Socks. He had to have socks. And sandals. Bare feet felt nice, but given Yahiko had been walking into the apartment in shoes since the day of the accident - he really didn't want a stray bit of bottle glass in his toes.

__

'The odds of finding good _green tea in an American house are about the same as finding one white hair in a black stallion's coat. I'd rather not. They've served coffee in Tokyo since Meiji, at least.'_ For a few minutes, there was silence. _'Is there rice?'_

You're as bad as Yahiko! Combing out his hair, Kenshin stared at the unruly dark brown mass with dismay. _Damn. What am I going to do with this?_

'Why not just tie it back? It's long enough.'

Just. He could've sworn it had been barely inching out of its usual below-the-ears cut a few days ago. _I must have missed a barber's appointment._ He'd have to fix that. Soon.

__

'What is it with modern men and short hair? You're a rare-items dealer. You can have a little style.'

I don't need style, I need- Oh, I am not having this argument with a talking sword!

'Hmm. Definitely need coffee.'

Growling under his breath, Kenshin dug into the cabinet for a thick rubber band. Hair temporarily dealt with, he padded out into the apartment, sandals shushing over a throw-rug as he followed his nose to where milk was scorching, half-scrambled eggs were crackling in a pan set too low, and rice was about to burn. Now that he was up and moving, he was suddenly, inexplicably hungry.

__

'Ah. You do _have rice.'_

Just don't expect much from it, Kenshin warned. _I can't help it if I learned to cook from an Irish cop first..._

"Who are you, and what have you done with my brother?" Yahiko demanded some time later.

"Mmph?" Midway through his second serving of tuna, apples, and some of everything that had survived the stove, Kenshin blinked at him.

"You're messing with my head, aren't you?" the teenager accused. "The sword, the weird clothes, the rice - you _never_ eat rice-"

"Not never," Kenshin said defensively. _We emptied the pot? How?_

'I'm a magical creation,' Battousai put in from where Kenshin had left the sword on an empty chair. _'I draw energy from the world around me to survive. Some of that energy comes from you. Especially when I heal. And I_ like _the taste of rice.'_

That's one of us, at least. Odd; he'd _known_ he was eating rice, he just hadn't really noticed.

"It's one of Dad's reverse-psychology tricks, isn't it?" Dark eyes smoldered. "I can't believe you, Kenshin! That's low!"

__

"Maa, maa," Kenshin waved empty hands, trying to fend off the incoming argument. "Yahiko-chan-"

"Aha! I knew it!" Yahiko smacked a fist into his palm. "The clothes, the rice, the bits of Japanese - you _never_ speak Japanese - the whole living-history gig. You think if I know what kendo really came from, I'll quit!"

"_Iie._ I mean, I didn't-"

"Well, it's not going to work! I'm going to keep studying with Kaoru. You said I could, and I will!" Shoving back his chair, Yahiko bolted for his room. The door slammed.

"Okay," Kenshin said, eyes wide with stunned amazement.

__

'I take it that happens a lot.'

Gathering up the dishes, Kenshin shook his head. "How could you tell?"

__

'The tilted pictures on the wall were my first clue,' came the wry reply. _'You don't speak Japanese?'_

Kenshin shook his head. "Our father was third-generation New York. Most of what I know, I learned from listening to Sadako teach Yahiko. I don't know why I'm-" He stopped. Looked at black lacquer.

__

'Most likely,' Battousai agreed with the unvoiced thought. _'I do "think" in Nihongo, after all. And while your waking mind simply hears and understands, the child inside that still clings to those bits of your father's tongue is listening very carefully.'_

Kenshin set a cup carefully down in the sink. "And just what else am I listening to?" _I dreamed your memories. You haven't_ forced _me to do anything, but - I'm doing what you want done, almost before you even ask. I feel - odd. Different._

'I-' The thought cut off, shock flashing to him like ice water. _'Kenshin! The balcony. Now!'_

The sheath was in his left hand as he threw open the door; he scanned the rows of potted tomatoes and summer daylilies, the part of him that loved gardening noting that he had a chance to cross a good, strong red with a ruffle-edged white-

Translucent, concrete-gray feathers shifted at the edge of the railing. A pigeon the size of an eagle lifted its head and looked at him, eyes like living, molten glass staring straight into surprised violet.

__

'It's an Elemental.' Surprise, shock, a gripping tension in his gut. _'Part of the city given life by human emotion. If it's manifesting-'_

Something bad is about to happen.

"Domo arigatou!" Kenshin flung over his shoulder, bolting back inside. Dishes were forgotten. The stove didn't even rate a glance. "Yahiko!" He rattled the teenager's bedroom knob. "Yahiko, open this-"

__

'No time!'

Steel slashed through wooden composites like paper. Kenshin barely registered the young teen's gaping stare before his hands reached out and grabbed.

__

'Move!'

"Ken- wha- ugh-"

Left hand pulling the boy through air by his t-shirt collar, Kenshin sprinted for the apartment's front door. Something sour prickled at his heart, a flinch, a warning; as if alien hate had suddenly taken on taste and heat and a sickly, angry glow. _Something's out there-_

'Several somethings. Don't stop!'

Kenshin slammed the door open and ran, stomping the hand and lighter of the gap-toothed man from Tani's kneeling by his door, drawing a swear from the bodyguard's pin-striped partner, and completely shocking Mr. Grimes five doors down as the elderly man tried to unwrap himself from his yapping terrier's leash. Something black and cylindrical sparked; Kenshin kicked it behind him into his apartment as he bolted down the hall, reflex registering danger and the need to get clear. _Was that- it couldn't be-_

'Good choice. Sorry about your apartment, though.'

Air _whumped_, broke into the whistle of metal shrapnel and a sudden choked scream. Kenshin didn't look back, unwilling to see what their own pipe bomb had done to the two Kin who'd tried to kill him. Yahiko's whimper was bad enough.

And then the shock of the blast hit, nearly shaking him off his feet, catching the eyes of four very disreputable types in suits and leather just pouring out of the opening elevator. One suit jumped toward them, a six-pack of glass bottles clinking in his grip; Kenshin's nose caught a whiff of gasoline, and - soap?

__

'Cocktails a la Molotov, as Sano would say.' Battousai's voice was grim as the four new thugs shared a semi-intelligent thought and bolted after them. _'Kami, no wonder the Elemental woke. They mean to-'_

Red and white caught his gaze, and Kenshin veered toward it. Reached out, and yanked down on the fire alarm. Felt himself over-balance, even as the ear-splitting noise set the building ringing-

Muscles tensed without his will, working with the skid. His hand slapped the wall, adding just the right amount of momentum to level him out. _'Keep going. I've got you.'_

Elevator- can't-

'No, we can't,' Battousai agreed; Kenshin felt a shift in his mind, a cascade of images and possibilities that sifted their current options at lightning speed. _'The stairs. Go up.'_

Up? Terror shivered through him, only outweighed by the sure knowledge of death panting at their heels.

__

'You really hate heights, don't you?'

Yahiko's elbow jabbed at his back. "Damn it, put me _down_, Ken- son of a _bitch!_"

__

'Literally.'

Kenshin hit the stairwell doors and kept going, taking advantage of the stair's corner to get a glimpse of their pursuers without taking the time to turn. And wished he hadn't.

Fur sprouted on two of the thugs like a crawling brown wave, ripping apart cotton, straining black leather to its seams. Two humanoid wolves leapt up the stairs after them, moving at a speed nothing human could hope to match.

__

'Kenshin.' Firm. Implacable. And yet... still a question.

He let go of Yahiko's collar, and - let go.

It felt like falling. Tumbling into darkness, into endless coils of cool, silky scales. Coils that seemed to wrap around him, and warm, and quicken...

__

"Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Ryuu Kan Sen Arashi!"

* * *

__

Alive. Kami, I feel alive.

The mid-air spiral caught the werewolves off-guard, let him strike both Kin before either could raise a clawed hand.

One werewolf collapsed to the steps as he touched down; neck broken, head lolling limp to the side as temporary death forced it back to human form. The other teetered on the railing, trying to breathe through shattered ribs, the weight of fur and muscle threatening to bear it over and down.

Battousai felt Kenshin's flash of panic, ruthlessly suppressed it. _No. I will_ not _hold back. Two lives ride on my blade this day. Yours. And Yahiko's._

__

Forgive me...

"Ryuu Sho Sen!"

The rising strike took the remaining werewolf in the throat. Even with only human strength to back it, Battousai felt the fatal crunch of a smashed larynx. The Kin's eyes widened, dilated black. Claws scrabbled at air.

Coolly, Battousai shoved.

Fur lurched over the railing, falling, falling-

__

Intent flicked at his ki sense; Battousai ducked and ran, hearing the firecracker snaps of a semi-automatic after the bullets had already passed him. _Two more. I could take them now, but-_

'Let me go! Kenshin's mind slashed at him, panic and fear sharpening a human will into a blade as keen as any katana. _'You promised!'_

I did. Battousai flexed himself within the young man's mind as he scooped up a still-stunned Yahiko, preparing to yield the body Kenshin had loaned him. _But_ keep running!

* * *

His lungs burned. His joints ached. He could still feel the shock of steel against flesh, the cool calculation that had shoved a werewolf over the railing to a lethal fall.

He could still hear echoes of the impact.

__

Seconds, Kenshin thought, pale. _It was just - seconds..._

Seconds that had shifted that presence of Battousai within him, tilting the world askew. The five senses he'd known since birth had expanded somehow, linking into a bizarre feeling from enchanted steel that sensed _Kin, anger, threat_, and tied it all into an unerring surety of where the next attack was coming from-

__

Hate pulsed at him, and he ducked again, feeling the spray of paint bits as the bullet smashed into the wall nearby. _This is getting old, that it is._

"Why are they _shooting_ at us?" Yahiko gasped, limp against his back. "What did you _do?_ How did- you _killed_ them?"

Kenshin gulped in air. "I said it was a bad night!"

"Bad night? We have the werewolf Mafia after us, and you call it a _bad night?_"

"Oro..." What _did I just say?_

'Save your breath,' Battousai advised. _'Worry about archaic Japanese later. Here comes the roof.'_

Frying pan, fire, Kenshin thought flippantly, terrified beyond his usual loathing for heights of any sort. _Here we-_

Kenshin hit the door hard, steel rattling against his chest. Felt his hand go limp, dropping Yahiko, even as he stared at the industrial-strength chain wrapped around the bar handle, binding it to a thick ring set into the stairwell wall.

__

'Your building manager. Chained a fire door.' Inhuman fury poured into him, pulsing in time with the still-ringing alarm. _'Kami help me, when we get out of this-'_

"Get in line," Kenshin growled. Took a step back, letting Battousai guide him into the sideways stance he somehow knew they wanted. Hand on the hilt. Pull, flip, _strike_-

The sakabatou's sharp edge screeched through steel like thick mud. "Go!"

Gaping, Yahiko found his feet. Stared a second longer at sheared steel. Glanced up at his brother, and bolted out onto the roof.

__

He was afraid. He was afraid of me...

Right now, I'm _afraid of me!_

'Panic later.' Battousai latched onto his fear and shook it, snarling at panic until it bared its throat in submission. _'Do you want to live? Do you want Yahiko to live?'_

Unfamiliar anger rushed into the vacuum. _You have to ask?_

'Then be _with me. I have a plan. Listen.'_

The world went distant again. He nodded once, hearing angry footsteps pound up the stairs. Stepped silently out onto the roof to wait out of sight beside the open door. Still a floor down was a surviving werewolf. Beside him, the bright edge of a sorcerer. Farther down, he felt more fangs and fur; an unknown number of reinforcements, though he doubted there was more than a handful. And there, behind the solid cover of the roof A/C, beat the warm but faint brightness of a human heart. _Yahiko._

__

'Yes. That's his ki.'

How?

'All humans have the potential to sense ki. You more than most. It's like hakama, Kenshin; all I had to do was show you the pattern.'

All? Kenshin asked skeptically.

__

'Later. Wait... wait... now!'

The sorcerer had just jumped out, a spike-haired Goth of a Japanese with leather collar and steel-studded eyebrows, dressed for counterculture irony in charcoal-gray suit and tie, one black-nailed hand lifted in a potent gesture. Kenshin let him take one more nervous step, then leapt.

__

Oh. More heights, he thought numbly.

Growling back toward human form, the lone still-suited werewolf darted out to back up his co-worker, fading claws gripping Molotovs as he wrinkled a still-canine nose at the air. "Where the hell did that Herd-" The werewolf sniffed. His jaw dropped.

__

"Over here."

The shock of the blow went through his wrists and shoulders, jarring his teeth together. Kenshin felt the set of his body, saw the angle of gritty roof, knew there was something wrong-

Landed in a tangle of unconscious fur and shattering glass, and felt something in his ankle give. The world went red with pain.

__

'Ugh... you're definitely not agile enough for a Ryuu Tsui Sen yet... no!'

The lash of lightning arced at him, blue and raging.

"Kenshin!"

__

Yahiko! No!

On one knee, Kenshin swept the sword out in a desperate parry, not knowing if it could work, not caring. He'd never seen this spell before, but Battousai _had_, and the knowledge that the sorcerer could shift its target with a gesture screamed in his heart.

Blue lightning met steel. Glowed, rippling from blue to ice-white to violet to a scream of blinding light.

Shattered into sparks.

__

'...I have a headache...'

One staggering, white-hot step, and Kenshin was on the stunned sorcerer, bearing the Japanese Goth to the pigeon-stained roof with every ounce of his small frame. "Tell them to back down," he hissed, tipping the sharp edge of his blade under a rough-shaved chin. "Now!"

"Everybody chill!" his hunter turned captive squeaked, eyes trying to bend to see the cold threat against his skin. "Shit!"

"Better," Kenshin said flatly. "I haven't killed any of you permanently today. It'd be a pity if I had to start with you." _Oh kami, I'm going to throw up-_

'No. You won't.' Battousai chilled the sickness before it could start, insulating him with calm calculation. _'Remember the plan. He can see magic. The werewolves might let their temper rule them and not look; he knows we can deal a permanent death.'_

"Who sent you?" Kenshin bit out.

"Sent us?" Dark-edged eyes narrowed at him. "You wipe out C Spot and you need to ask? He was one of us, beeps!"

__

Beeps?

'Blue Plate Special.'

They really do think of us as food. Gods. "We disagreed about his dinner plans," Kenshin said dryly. "How did you find me?"

"Herd," the Goth snorted. "Think the furs can't follow a blood trail?"

__

'We didn't leave a blood trail. Not after I started healing you.'

But we left blood, Kenshin knew, recalling a shredded jacket tossed to rot in an alley.

__

'You think-?'

He doesn't feel like he's lying... oh, gods. I can feel that?

Yahiko's hands grabbed his shoulder, words pouring over each other in a rush. "Kenshin we gotta go _now!_"

Reflected in the edge of steel, Kenshin saw blue flames dance near the shattered Molotovs.

__

'Good night,' Battousai growled, flipping the blade to smack the sorcerer unconscious before they staggered clear. _'Stay awake, Kenshin. Stay with me.'_

Easy to ask. Hard to do, as Yahiko dragged him toward the fire escape and flames roared behind them. Every step felt like someone had shoved broken glass into his ankle. The world was there, red, there, _white-_

'Hang on. Hold onto me. I'm here.'

Steel anchored him as they half-climbed, half-slid down to street level. He clung to the weight of it as fire trucks howled down the street, leaned on that cool, wild strength as if it were a scaly shoulder. _Fight would have been easier with a wakizashi - good lord, did I-?_

'Sanosuke has mine. We'll get it. Later.'

"Exact change," a bored Brooklyn accent droned.

__

Bus. Kenshin blinked at the gray-haired lady with a pink-sequined hat and a mad glitter in her eyes behind the wheel, suddenly aware those last few agonizing steps had been climbing up. _We're on a bus?_

"Um..." Yahiko fished in his pocket for change, cast his brother a panicked look.

__

He's been at the arcades again. Figures. Fishing his wallet and coin pouch from between the layers of his gi, Kenshin numbly counted out quarters.

__

'When did you-?'

"First rule of survival in the City that Never Sleeps," Kenshin murmured under his breath. "No matter what you wear, _always_ find a place for your wallet."

Battousai laughed.

Kenshin let Yahiko drag him to an empty seat, half a breath from losing the battle to stay on his feet. "Where are we going?"

"You're asking me?" Some of the rough edge left Yahiko's breathing; he sat up, grinning. "Well, Kaoru knows kendo, right? I bet she knows about swords! That's what this is about, right?" he went on uncertainly. "I mean, you don't _know_ kendo, and I saw you... man that was _so_ cool!"

"Not cool," Kenshin said raggedly. He hurt. Everywhere. "I didn't want to... they would have killed us, Yahiko. I wouldn't have done it if there had been another choice, that I would not."

"Oh, come on! They're the bad guys, right?"

Kenshin shook his head. "It's not that simple."

__

'It never is.'

"They had reasons. Not good reasons, but..." Kenshin rubbed knuckles along his brow, trying to string coherent thoughts together. Pain, and... _presence_, pressed at his nerves like tightening duct tape. Anger and boredom and grief and joy and homicidal fury - all the swirling emotions of the city, crushing him. He swallowed dryly, feeling his stomach lurch.

Alarm gripped him. _'Kenshin. Kenshin, don't pull back. I can help, but only if you keep leaning on me. Stay with me, stay calm-'_

No! He pried his inner self away from steel, biting back a gasp as the pain crushed in. _You're -_ doing _something to me-_

"Kenshin?" Yahiko's voice was uncertain. "You don't look so good." Worry permeated the rough polish of teenaged cocky self-confidence, tinged with smoky surprise-

Too much.

"Wake me when we get there," Kenshin managed. And passed out.

* * *

Sitting _seiza_ on her living room floor, Kaoru Kamiya sipped her cup of green tea, listening to the quiet tap of dancers practicing footwork on the floor above. _Ah, Saturday. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. So quiet. So peaceful..._

Kaoru slammed her cup to the floor. "It's a little _too_ peaceful and quiet around here!"

Jumping to her feet, the master of the Kamiya dojo stalked toward the rack of her practice swords, hearing dancing footfalls get louder as she walked under them. If she couldn't immerse herself in the moment with tea, at least she could thump the stuffing out of a few imaginary opponents.

__

Cleansing breath. First stance. Look, and move.

Kaoru raised her bokken, fire in blue eyes. Air was going to regret being in the same room with her, today.

__

Head. Head. Parry. Sidestep. Head.

She chased her invisible foe across the wide floor, absently glad Dr. Genzai had let her know this apartment building even existed when she'd been searching for a place last year. Granted, he got a sometimes-babysitter out of the deal, but occasionally looking after Ayame and Suzumi was small enough payback for this.

__

A room big enough to dance in. Or experiment with feng shui layouts, before you spring alternative medicines on your patients. Kaoru slowed down, cooling off. _Or practice kata._

"Okay," she sighed, resting polished wood against her shoulder. "Now that you've got that out of your system... just what is the problem? You're in a building full of people, it's not like you're lonely."

No, of course not. After all, even on a Saturday morning, she could always invite someone in for a cup if she wanted conversation. Though sometimes the place did seem a little too empty lately. She'd been thinking of going down to _Wonderful Things_ later today; the Himuras' shop had a water fountain whose quiet ripples would soften the echoing walls. If she decided to spend that much. She'd been dropping by there every week for the past three, weighing the price against a martial arts instructor's thin salary.

__

Oh, get real. It's not the water fountain you're interested in.

Pity Kenshin didn't seem inclined to catch on.

__

From what Yahiko says, Kenshin's college girlfriend dumped him hard a few years back; Yahiko may have a mouth problem, but a thirteen-year-old doesn't throw around words like "family of psycho bastards" without good reason. I know how hard it is to get back into the scene after something like that. And they're both still pretty broken up about their parents.

Though that seemed to be getting better. Yahiko was a lot calmer in class lately, trying to help a few of the younger students when he could. And Kenshin had actually smiled at her last week in the shop, watching her when he thought she wasn't looking with a sort of wistful wonder.

__

Give it a little more time. It's not like a cute guy is just going to drop into my lap-

The intercom buzzed. Surprised, Kaoru walked over to the button. "Yes?"

"Kamiya-sensei?"

She tilted her head at the speaker, startled. The voice was familiar, but in the background- _Someone's hurt._ "Yahiko?"

"Can we come up? I mean, now? We're going to get funny looks if we stand out here too long - I'm kind of surprised nobody's done anything yet - um, help?"

She pressed the button to unlock the building's outer door and headed for the elevator. Usually Yahiko would take the stairs, but those rapid breaths in the background had sounded like real pain. _Should I get Dr. Genzai? No, Yahiko's got a level head. Unless you bring up his parents. If someone were really hurt, he wouldn't be_ here, _he'd be dialing 911. So - hurt but not serious, and Yahiko thinks I know what to do. Probably a fight, then. Darn teenagers. Just wait until I have it under control, then I'll give them both a piece of my mind._ Tapping her foot, she scowled at the elevator doors.

Wood-sheathed panels opened, and Yahiko gave her a weak grin. "Um, hi?"

For a minute Kaoru couldn't say anything, taking in the white-faced man leaning on her student. Gi and hakama, like any kendo student, if kendo students wore red and made a habit of beating each other over the head in New York dust. Strong fingers clutching Yahiko's shoulder, lightly reddened, as if they'd gripped a sword through one of her own sensei's grueling top-level lessons. Long dark hair held back by a fraying rubber band, glinting with odd scarlet highlights in the hall light. "Kenshin?"

"_Ohayo_, Kaoru-_dono_." There was a pinched look to violet eyes, and the toes of his right sandal were barely brushing the ground. "I mean... good morning, Miss Kaoru... I..."

"Come on, let's get you off that ankle," Kaoru said briskly, tucking her arm around the man's shoulder in Yahiko's place. She heard her student sigh with relief; Kenshin might be an inch shorter than she was, but even a small grown man was no lightweight when you were a living crutch. _Kenshin was in a fight? Kenshin hates fighting!_

Which meant... this had to be a lot more serious than it looked.

__

First things first. She got the man inside and onto her battered blue couch, trying not to laugh as Yahiko screeched to a stop on the rough mat just inside her door, pulling off his sneakers with embarrassed haste. _Now if he'd just show manners like that at home, I'd know those two were on their way back to okay._

Kaoru pulled off Kenshin's brown sock, noting how his fingers bit into the river-blue upholstery as she got knitted cloth past the swelling lump of his ankle. "You did a number on it, all right." She prodded gently at bruising flesh, hearing the hiss of breath he couldn't bite back. "I think it's just a bad sprain, but you probably should get it x-rayed."

"No." Kenshin's voice was soft, but with an edge of steel to it she'd never heard before. "No hospitals."

"Kenshin! She's trying to help. Don't be a jerk." Yahiko grabbed a chair from the kitchen and dragged it in front of the couch, sitting backwards on it to glare at his older brother.

"We can't." Kenshin's hands clenched on the couch as Kaoru started winding an ace bandage around his abused ankle. "I don't know what they'd find. And I don't plan to find out."

"_Ken_shin-"

"Yahiko. It was _broken_ before."

Stilted silence. Tacking the end of the bandage in place, Kaoru looked between the two brothers. _Kidding, right? He's got to be kidding. It's only been a few days since the last time I saw Yahiko. Broken bones don't heal in just a few days._

Wait. If it was broken - that bruise is just coming up. Not black and greenish. Whatever happened, just _happened. It couldn't have been broken!_

Except Yahiko's wide eyes said he believed his brother. And Kenshin-

Kenshin was watching her as if he expected her to bolt like a startled rabbit. Or as if _he_ wanted to.

__

On that ankle? Not in my house, buster! "Yahiko," Kaoru said, not taking her eyes off the injured rarities dealer curled on her couch. "There's some icepacks in my freezer. Could you get one?"

"Ah - yeah." The teenager scampered off.

"Talk," Kaoru said bluntly, narrowing blue eyes.

"I - well - oh, gods." Kenshin dropped a hand to his obi, and drew out an unexpected shape of steel and black lacquer.

Kaoru let him place the sheathed sword in her hands, trying not to gape. _He was wearing a_ sword, _and I didn't see it?_

'Hajimemashite, Kamiya-sensei.'

"Eep!"

Steel clanged to the floor, and Kenshin winced. "_Onegai_, Kaoru-dono..."

"Headache?" Kaoru asked numbly, seeing the way pale fingers kneaded his forehead. _I dropped a sword. Sensei would have my head._

"One you would not believe, that you would not," Kenshin muttered. "I only hope we lost the pack at our apartment, that I do. If I only knew who laid the trail for them there..."

"Pack? Lost?" Gingerly, Kaoru scooped up the saya. "What's going on?"

__

'That, as you Americans say, is a long story.'

She was a master of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. She was _not_ going to shriek. She was _not_ going to fling steel from her like a venomous snake. No matter how much she wanted to. "Kenshin," Kaoru said carefully, "Your sword talks."

"He's not _my_ sword," Kenshin corrected, shaking his head. "I'm only holding him for a time, that I am."

"It's _possessed?_" Icepack in hand, Yahiko dashed over with a wide grin. "Wicked!"

"Not possessed. He said he's not a ghost-" Kenshin yawned suddenly. "Sword-spirit. Steel given life long ago... forgive, I'm tired, that I am..."

__

'We burned up more energy in a few minutes than you usually do in a whole day. And I'm still working on the crack in your ankle.' The voice in Kaoru's mind was cool and inhuman, gentle as a running rill of snowmelt. _'Sleep. You need it.'_

From the way Kenshin drooped against the cushions, Kaoru could tell he was minutes away from doing just that. Still, violet eyes struggled back open. "But - Tani's people-"

__

'I've tapped into your ki sense now. There's no danger in this building.'

"Sorcerer," Kenshin muttered, eyelids dropping shut.

__

'You can sense him, hmm?' Cool pride washed through her. _'It's all right. Feel that warmth to him, like a handful of milkweed fluff? None of Tani's people were that human._ He _won't be coming for you. Or Yahiko.'_

"Trust you..."

__

'I know.'

Biting her lip, Kaoru taped Yahiko's icepack over the bandage, then covered the limp man with one of her winter sleeping bags. "Did he get hit on the head?"

A silent, grim laugh. _'None of them were that good.'_

"Them?"

"You're talking to him? How come I can't hear him?" Yahiko demanded, scowling.

Kaoru gave him a _look_. Grabbed his hand, and placed it on the saya.

__

'Exactly.'

Yahiko jumped, then grinned. And stopped grinning. "But - _Kaoru_ was holding you, and Kenshin still-"

__

'Kenshin... used me, and allowed me to use him, under great stress. He doesn't need to touch me.'

"Used you?" Kaoru asked guardedly. Trying to stifle the sudden, awful suspicion gnawing at her gut. _This is Kenshin._ Kenshin. _He hates violence. He wouldn't even have started bringing Yahiko to my class if he wasn't desperate. He couldn't have - not a sword, he just_ couldn't _have-_

'Aa, he did. I've been easing him through the shock so much as I can, but his soul still bleeds.' A soundless sigh, like a breeze through winter dawn. _'Do you have a cleaning kit?'_

* * *

__

One day, Battousai, Sanosuke thought darkly, stepping through the wreck of the Himura apartment under the watchful eyes of New York's finest, fists clenching as if they wanted to strangle a certain piece of enchanted steel. _You can't stay out of trouble for_ one _lousy day..._

"I tell you, I knew those boys were headed for trouble from the first day I saw them!" the neighborly Mr. Grimes was announcing to a few uniforms out in the hall. "Of course, the parents tried; Mrs. Himura may have had some old-fashioned habits, but I'm sure she meant well. But once they were gone - hmph! Young man on his own, trying to raise that hellion of a teenager; and his half-brother at that! Of course you want to believe the best of people, of course you do. But it was only a matter of time."

Sano tuned out the old busybody, picking his way through the wreckage toward the balcony. There was something here. Like the squeak of a bat; something just at the edge of his senses, that he couldn't quite grasp.

__

Center, Sanosuke recalled, thinking of a ghostly smile, the red headband of the Sekihoutai blowing in an unfelt wind. _Ground yourself. The heart of your ki and the heart of the earth are one._

Lessons of a lost age, passed on by a phantom samurai years ago. Sagara Souzou had died at the hands of his superiors, but his ghost had clung to earth in the hope of seeing his dream fulfilled. A time when there would be no above or below, when all people might find justice under the law. A time he'd worked toward for over a century, taking a New York street urchin under his wing along the way.

__

Now open your eyes, and see.

A faint glow clung to the apartment walls, more felt than seen, echoes of years of occupants' hopes and fears. A stronger track of light traced through the air; Battousai's mark. And more light glimmered from the balcony, wrapped in a taste of concrete and feathers.

__

An Elemental was here, Sano realized. _Not a major one. Probably just looks after this block. But it_ was _here. Battousai would have seen it._

No need to ask why an Elemental had decided to manifest. They weren't human, they might not personally _like_ humans, but they did try to minimize damage to their domain. Humans included.

__

Don't know if Tani's men knew they were up against Battousai, but they had to know they might draw an Elemental. Looks like they meant to take this whole floor out.

Which would have left the Elemental in a bit of a quandary. Elementals had limits just like any other Kin. They didn't usually get involved unless more than a dozen people were about to die at once. On a Saturday morning, this floor probably wouldn't have qualified.

__

Then Tani's guys would just let the rest burn.

Again, not something the Elemental could act directly against, not without expending a great deal of energy. Though it _could_ make sure phone lines in its domain carried 911 calls through at a critical moment, and _could_ nudge a light from green to red to let a fire-truck hit an intersection just right...

__

Or could just show itself, near the one person in this building who'd know _what that meant_, Sano thought.

As things stood, the entrance hall had channeled most of the blast straight in and straight out, half the explosion catching the pair of werewolves who'd set the charge like a close-range shotgun. The other half, well...

__

No way is Himura getting back his security deposit after this.

Resigned, Sanosuke let the glimpse of auras fade, and turned toward the neatly-labeled evidence bags the cops had thoughtfully left up here. Not that he thought that was all the evidence, oh no. Not with these two on the case. _Major Case. It just had to be the Major Case Squad_.

Bloody shirt from the bathroom wastebasket, blood well dried; probably a leftover from last night. Remnants of stained bandages, likewise. Shrapnel with relatively fresh blood, pulled from walls and doorway. Bits of oily, soot-stained bottle glass. Slashed bedroom door... he winced, and knew they caught it. _Damn._

Okay. Think. We've got evidence of homicide and attempted homicide here. Do we have evidence of Kin?

Two shrapnel-studded bodies, one broken neck, one fall-splattered corpse. All in human form. The rest of the Kin - and he _knew_ there had to have been more, no way could just four guys have driven Battousai to this level of violence - must have dragged themselves out of here after their firebombs set the roof ablaze.

__

Okay. Medical examiner won't find anything on the autopsies. I'll just have to put a call in so our people make sure those guys stay "dead" until the reports are filed. We've already got one accidental werewolf on the ME's night shift. I'd hate to see more.

Sano sighed. "Look. I know what this looks like..."

"Really? Oh, that's good. Because, I'm completely at a loss here," Detective Bobby Goren offered, smiling in a pleasant, distracted way that put most criminals and no few Target Alpha agents who should have known better off their guard. "Not that I haven't seen things like this before..."

"No, not at all," Detective Alexandrea Eames muttered under her breath.

"It just seems a little - strange, for this to happen to an antiques dealer." Goren's head tilted to the side, left hand spread as if offering the question.

__

Why me. Why me? Sanosuke resisted the urge to pick up a stray chair and break it into kindling. "This has got to stay as quiet as you can keep it."

Eames and Goren traded a glance. "Sure," Eames said easily.

__

Lying through your teeth, Sano thought wryly. _But hey, we do what have to do._ "You may have heard about a shoot-out down in Chinatown last night. Jusanro Tani's place?"

"There have been a few rumors," Goren shrugged. "Some of them are pretty wild."

"Not half as wild as the truth." _Which you're going to get. Edited._ "Tani got a death threat from a guy by the name of Kurogasa. An assassin my agency's been after a long time." _Long, long, long long long... never mind._ "Long story short, we were there, Tani's bodyguards and pet attack dogs were there, Kurogasa was there..." Sano waved his hand to indicate the apartment. "And, unbeknownst to us 'cause it _slipped Tani's mind_, the bastard, we also had one antique and reproductions dealer on the premises, delivering an old book. Far as I can trace his movements, Mr. Himura was let in by Tani's staff, signed over the book, got his check - and promptly got caught in the crossfire when Kurogasa popped up and started slicing throats."

__

Yep. They're taking notes. Stick to the cover story but good, Sagara.

"The bullets missed him. One of the guard dogs didn't," Sano said bluntly. "Lucky for Himura, Tani collects all kinds of weird antiques. Himura managed to get his hands on an old katana, and that was the end of C Spot."

"Katana?" Eames asked.

"A Japanese sword," her partner put in, watching Sano out of the corner of his eye. "They're very valuable art pieces. And... well, obviously good for other things too."

"Hmm. And how did Mr. Tani like seeing one of his art pieces covered in blood?" Eames aimed her gaze Sano's way.

"Evidently, he didn't," Sano said dryly. "I recognized at least two of those guys from last night." _Squirm, Tani. Squirm. I have to cover the fact that you're Kin. Nothing says I can't make your life a mundane hell._ "Thing is, I would have thought he was more worried about the agent who got shot dead on his rug." Now Sano did let himself wince. "That's... why it took us a while to figure out we were short a body, and where it was."

Eames and Goren traded a flat glance, a mild arch of brows. Eames turned her full attention back to Sanosuke. "We're going to need names and addresses on these employees of Mr. Tani."

"Not that we want to interfere in your investigation, of course," Goren put in diffidently.

__

Like hell. "Not a problem," Sano said easily. _We're chasing Kurogasa. You can have Tani._ "We'll get that info to your office soon as I get done in here."

"That reminds me..." Goren wagged a thoughtful finger. "I was just wondering... why you were so sure Mr. Himura was _here_. You hadn't even seen the bandages before we let you on the scene, and according to Mr. Baruvi - that's the doorman, right, Mr. Baruvi? - well, he says Kenshin Himura never came home last night."

"Not through the front door." Sano jerked a thumb toward the balcony, with its relatively easy access to the fire escape. Headed out of what was left of the apartment doorway, and nodded toward the stairwell. "And it was the guy on the stairs who told me."

"And just how did Mr.-" Eames looked at her notes, "Marcus Weston do that? Given that he was deceased at the time."

Sano crouched, studying the spattered and burned carpet. "I've seen some of these guys' work in Chinatown. And other places." He touched the soot, lifting a finger near his nose to get a better scent. "They were probably here a few minutes. Long enough for a guy with a case of serious nerves from last night to hear something. Himura goes for his brother, but the kid's locked the door... he must have panicked."

"And that's why you think he went out his front door, instead of back down the fire escape," Goren said easily. "Panic?"

"Probably." _Not. Balcony in broad daylight, when he's got civilians to look after and he knows the other guys might be waiting with guns? Battousai's got more sense than that._

But civilians usually didn't. Which meant one of two things; either Battousai had more control over Himura than records said he had over Ward after a week of bonding, or Himura was holding it together well enough to actually _listen_ to the enchanted blade.

__

I'm hoping it's listen, Sano thought darkly, walking slowly down the hall. "Himura bolts through here, gets lucky with the pipe bomb, sets off the fire alarm-"

"In a panic," Eames said levelly, following behind her partner.

"-Sees the bad guys at the elevator, and heads for the stairs," Sano went on, ignoring the bait. "Mr. Weston and his buddies follow and start shooting - and that's when they find out the hard way that Himura actually knows some kendo." _And when I meet your little brother, Himura, I swear I'm going to treat that kid to an all-you-can-eat sundae._ Kendo gear on the premises turned this web of half-truths from improbable to actually semi-plausible. Kami be thanked. Eames and Goren were _sharp_.

"And while he's using this little bit of kendo, this five-foot-two antique dealer somehow pushes Mr. Weston's companion, John Doe number Three, who's at least a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than he is, over the railing," Goren noted. "Wow. That's some panic."

__

Battousai in a bad mood, Sano thought, heading up the cordoned-off stairs. _We're lucky he was being subtle._

He couldn't imagine what Himura must be feeling right now. Dropped from normal life into the middle of the Kin's midnight wars. Knowing his own hands had killed, and he'd let someone else use them to do it.

__

Look after him, Battousai. We owe him one.

Several exhausting flights later, they were at the charred ruins of the roof door. Sano nodded toward the soot-streaked steel chain. The cut link still gleamed through the oily stains left by exploding Molotovs. "I'd need to check it under a scope, but I'm betting your lab will find that was done with one slash."

"This was done with a katana?" Eames' chestnut brows bounced up in real surprise. "Remind me to get my hands on one of those the next time I want to key a car."

"So he runs up here, with the little brother," Goren picked up the thread. "There's another struggle, the incendiaries go off... but there are no bodies." He shot a look at Sano, eyes hard behind the sleepy innocence. "You think Himura's still alive."

"Confusion like this, I doubt they'd carry off a dead body," Sanosuke said frankly. "Not their style."

"So, if he got away - and for some reason, you seem to think he _did_ get away - he must have gone-" Goren pointed over, and down, "-that way."

"That would be my guess," Sano nodded.

"That's interesting." Goren stepped back into the stairwell, ready to stroll back downstairs. "Because, you know, Mr. Grimes said Mr. Himura's afraid of heights. The whole building apparently knows that. But of course, _you_ wouldn't know that. Because you've never met him."

__

And on that note of indignity... Pasting a wry smile on his face, Sanosuke watched the detectives climb down out of sight. Cradled his head in his hands, and resisted the urge to pound his head against the wall rimming the roof. It'd feel _so_ good when he stopped.

"Afraid of heights," Sano groaned into his palms. "Damn it, 'Sai, you had to grab someone who's _afraid of heights?_"

* * *

__

Kami - "spirits".  
_Ryuu-sama_ - "Lord dragon".  
_Tama-hagane_ - a high-quality steel for swords.  
_Shishou_ - master; used in old sword-styles.  
_Baka deshi_ - "idiot student".  
_Aa_ - informal yes.  
_Maa, maa_ - "now, now", calm down.

__

Iie - no.  
_Ryuu Kan Sen Arashi _- Dragon Wrap Sword Storm.  
_Ryuu Sho Sen_ - Rising Dragon Flash.  
_Ryuu Tsui Sen_ - Dragon Hammer Flash.  
_Ohayo_ - Good morning.  
_Hajimemashite_ - Pleased to meet you for the first time.  
_Onegai_ - please.


	3. Chapter 3

__

'Better,' the blade's cool voice whispered in her mind as Kaoru tapped off the last oil and reassembled the hilt. _'I thank you. For his sake, as well as mine.'_

"Just-" The kendo instructor swallowed dryly, eyes on the bloodstained paper she'd used to clean the blade. Part of her wished she hadn't decided to do this in her own bedroom, leaving Yahiko out in the living room with a DVD player and a sleeping brother. But she had a responsibility to her students. Yahiko loved his older brother, despite their fights. There was no way she was going to force him to face the crimson now staining that man's soul. Not now; not when Kenshin was still half in shock himself. "It was self-defense, right?"

__

'C Spot was attempting to eat him.' The cool touch turned wry. _'It's not as if Kenshin had a silver-lined newspaper to smack the idiot on the nose.'_

She raised an eyebrow at that. "Idiot?"

__

'I suppose most would not see it. Even among the Kin. But Kenshin's ki is strong. To corner one with such a will to live, and leave that soul no choice but to pick up a blade - aa, he was _an idiot.'_

And you're not sorry at all, Kaoru realized. She tried not to shiver.

__

'You should be afraid, Kamiya-sensei.' The sword's voice was cool and clinical as a surgeon's knife. _'I am a weapon._ Satsujin-ken _is my core. My nature. And I lend that nature to those who bear me, until at last they can no longer recall what it is to not know how to kill.'_

Murderous sword technique. Ancient kenjutsu, meant for the wars of old. _No. Not Kenshin!_

'He carries me. Only.' The chill was almost gentle. _'But I have touched him, Kamiya-sensei. I have defended him. He is open to me. Vulnerable.'_

Kaoru wet dry lips. "And me? Yahiko?"

__

'You are safe. For now.'

She glared at steel. "And just _what_ aren't you telling me about how _safe_ we are?"

Was it her imagination, or did the sword seem ever so slightly cowed? _'You won't like it.'_

"News flash? I already don't like it." Kaoru stared at the wavy line that marked the transition from hardened edge to springier steel. "It's Kenshin, isn't it? As long as you're letting - whatever this is, happen to Kenshin, it won't happen to us."

__

'Yes.'

"Well, _stop it!_"

__

'I will not.'

"Listen, you-"

__

'So long as I allow myself to be drawn to Kenshin, so long as I answer the call of his soul alone, and not any who might touch me, you _are safe. And he will not allow you_ not _to be safe. Yahiko is his flesh and blood; you, his friend. If I fought his will, his_ need, _to protect you - that which binds us is altering his ki, forging it like new steel. To fight that would be to smash his soul against stone. Part of him would shatter.'_

Kaoru paled. Eyed gleaming steel as if it had suddenly turned into a hissing cobra. "So what can we do?" _No no no, not Kenshin, please no-_

'You might start by not panicking!' Chill lashed her like an icy ribbon. _'He is not as he was; that, I cannot help. I have moved with him, fought with him, and the memory of what we have done will be with him forever. But there is still time for me to leave him. There would still likely be time if he held me a week.'_ A formless shrug. _'Though I would not advise that.'_

"Not a problem," Kaoru ground out. "If you're still here in a week, I'm going to introduce you to an interesting modern American invention. Called a _trash compactor_."

Silence. And then-

__

Laughter drummed against her soul like April rain.

Kaoru saw red. "Why, you-"

__

'It... has been so long.' Cool glee skirled about her. _'No wonder he adores you. Even untrained, he would have sensed your ki. And those with the will to face me are so very, very rare.'_

"Kenshin - wha-?" Red-faced, Kaoru shook her head. "I think I've heard just about enough out of _you_." Sheathing the blade, she headed for the bedroom door.

__

'Kamiya-sensei!'

"What?"

'Do not leave me alone with Yahiko. Not while Kenshin still sleeps.'

"I thought you said we were safe," Kaoru pointed out.

__

'From magic. But I am a weapon, sensei. You know that, and treat me as such. And Kenshin knows all too well what I may do, even in unknowing hands.'

Never leave your students with live steel, her father's voice echoed out of memory. _Not unless you're sure they can handle it._ "Right," Kaoru sighed.

Yahiko jumped up when she walked out into the living room, ignoring ominous explosions on the TV screen. "So did he tell you what's going on? There was fur, and there were fangs, and one guy was even tossing _lightning_ around - Kenshin knew who those guys were, but he wouldn't tell me!"

__

'He was busy running at the time,' the sword put in dryly.

"He told me part of it." Kaoru looked at the small man on her couch, curled into a catlike ball under her sleeping bag. From what little of his face she could see Kenshin was still lost in sleep, too weary even to dream. "Your brother was delivering a book last night?"

"Jusanro Tani," Yahiko nodded after a second to think. "Kenshin thought it was a little weird. He said that usually this guy goes straight to the rare book dealers. Won't touch theatrical reproductions like ours with a ten-foot pole. Probably wouldn't have this time, either, only he heard we found this poetry journal in an old stage magician's trunk and decided he _had_ to have it. Freaky. But his checks are always good, so-" The teen shrugged.

"Freaky's a good word," Kaoru shuddered. "According to this-" she waved the sheathed sword, "Mr. Tani is a sorcerer."

Yahiko's jaw dropped. "No way," he said reverently.

"Way," Kaoru replied, face serious. "And some of his bodyguards are sorcerers, vampires... and werewolves. And when your brother saw them fighting another creature - one of those werewolves decided he'd seen too much to live." She managed a shaky smile. "Your brother had other ideas."

"Way to go, _aniki!_" Yahiko grinned. Thought a second. Paled. "Oh, man! They followed him? Which means they could have followed us here-" Dark eyes darted toward the windows and door.

"Probably not," Kaoru said hastily. "Apparently real wolves might be able to track a bus, but neither of you were bleeding, so werewolves would have lost it in a few blocks. You should be safe here." She left out the fuzzy suspicion the blade had offered; that it and Kenshin both thought they hadn't left blood the first time. _An assassin with mad green eyes... but they don't know. They didn't see him, or feel him. And they would, wouldn't they?_

The sword was silent.

__

Some help you are, Kaoru thought crossly.

__

'Do you wish me to lie to you? Jin-e can shield his ki, as any hitokiri can. And Kenshin is not my bearer. My ki perception is limited.'

"Anyway," Karou sighed, "I thought I'd head down the hall for a few minutes and see if Dr. Genzai can make a house call. Are you going to be okay here?"

Yahiko's gaze slid to the gunfire on the TV, the older brother so lost in oblivion he could probably sleep through a Times Square traffic jam. "Gee. Let me think. Yeah, I guess I can last a few minutes without you."

"Teenage sarcasm," Kaoru grumbled, automatically locking the front door of her apartment behind her as she stepped into the hall. "And to think I hoped he'd start acting like a regular kid." She glanced down at black lacquer. "Don't know how I'm going to explain you to Dr. Genzai."

__

'Humans don't usually see me. Not unless I want them to.'

"But Kenshin," she started.

__

'Kenshin didn't see _me, Kaoru-sensei. He just grabbed me off the floor.'_

Kaoru winced at the raw emotion that brushed her with that shard of memory. Pain at the death of his former host. Fear for his friend, Sanosuke, still facing the deadly assassin. The raw helplessness of sensory deprivation, no way to move or see or feel. And then-

__

Fear pain terror not _going to die here!_

Werewolf blood was a bitter, coppery taste along steel. Sight and touch and scent roared back with it, pulsing in time to an unfamiliar heartbeat. A new ki glowed at the edge of his consciousness; warm, open, _strong_.

Tempting. So very tempting.

__

'But I did not take him then, and I will not now,' the sword stated bluntly, shutting away that memory. _'I work with humankind; with the agency that wards you from the worst Kin, here in New York. I _ask. _I do not _take.'

__

Uh-huh, Kaoru thought darkly. _Right._

The bad thing was, she believed him.

The worse thing was, she'd caught a little more of that sense of Kenshin's ki than she thought the sword had meant to show. _Tempting_ wasn't the word for it. It was... the smell of a perfect steak, after a long, hard, hungry day. The cool slide of lemonade down the throat on the hottest day of summer. The first melting taste of sour-cream chocolate cake, when you just _knew_ you shouldn't, but it was _so good..._

Focus, Kaoru. First make sure Kenshin's okay. Then track down this Sanosuke and make _him take this salivating hunk of steel out of here!_ She knocked on the door she wanted. "Dr. Genzai? Do you have a few minutes? One of my students brought home a little problem."

"Little Kaoru?" The gray-haired doctor's cheerful voice filtered through wood. "Ayame, Suzumi, put that down. Yes, on the table, not the rug. Just a minute..."

__

'This is your Dr. Genzai?'

"What are you worried about?" Kaoru muttered under her breath. "He's not going to see you."

__

'I said, humans _don't see me.'_

The door opened, and Dr. Genzai smiled at her, gray hair mussed in a way that said little Ayame had been into the finger-paints again. "Kaoru! What can I-" Dark eyes fell on the sword, and he gasped. "Battousai!"

__

'Dr. Genzai is a sorcerer.'

* * *

Warmth. Tiredness. Vague sounds of triumphant music, as a TV bad guy went down in flames. Kenshin snuggled his face a little deeper into his arms, feeling the silky slip of the sleeping bag over the side of his neck. He didn't really want to move.

But there was something coming closer. Not a dangerous something, and yet - it pricked at him. Rubbed at raw nerves, winding them taut.

__

:Kenshin. Stay calm. Dr. Genzai is going to touch your foot.:

Stay calm? Why wouldn't he stay calm? He could almost see the man without opening his eyes; tracking him by sound and scent and the shy newness of ki sense. He could feel kind intent, a will to help, friendliness. Nothing to explain that odd, wary prickle in his nerves.

Worn fingers touched his skin just above the bandage, and wariness flared into _sorcerer, here-_

"Ooof!"

Violet eyes blinked open, staring down into grimacing brown. _Wait. I'm not on the couch._

Pinned to the floor, the gray-haired sorcerer coughed. "Young man, if you please..."

Kenshin dropped his gaze further, to where the solid bar of his arm was pressing against a wrinkled throat. Flushed, and scrambled off the man onto the floor. "_Sumimasen._ I mean - I'm sorry, that I am. I don't know why I did that..." _I don't even know_ how _I did that!_

'Yes, you do.' Battousai's tone was gentle, but firm. _'Jujitsu is part of the Hiten. Not a major part, but I do know how to teach my bearer how to fight without a blade.'_

"You're not exactly yourself lately," Dr. Genzai said dryly, getting to his feet one knee at a time. "So I've heard."

"Everything okay in there?" Yahiko's voice rang out of Kaoru's kitchen. "Agh! Suzumi - ow - you're stepping on my-"

"I think I'd better go rescue your brother from the Dynamic Duo." Smiling, Kaoru moved toward the kitchen. Stopped for a moment, blue eyes serious. "This should probably stay here."

Kenshin accepted the sheathed sword and watched her stride into the kitchen, listening to little-girl shouts of "Kaoru-nee-san!" and "Big sister, we got him!" _She looks upset._

'She knows you're at risk. She would help you if she could. But she can't, and she knows it.'

Kenshin frowned. _At risk?_

Hesitation. _'Let Dr. Genzai look you over.'_

"If you would put that aside, young man? Not too far, no, just away." Dr. Genzai's brown eyes twinkled with wry humor. "I don't know if Battousai can shock me through you, and I'd prefer not to find out."

"Shock you?" Kenshin asked, startled.

"Hmm. Yes, there's no reason you would know. Battousai the Manslayer has a rather unpleasant reputation among the Kin, Kenshin. Well earned, I'm afraid." The doctor nodded at the hilt as Kenshin laid it on the couch next to him. "I've heard that blade can kill a Kin who tries to pick it up. _Extra crispy_ was the term one of my patients used."

__

'My maker warded me well,' Battousai said smugly.

"Manslayer?" Kenshin said weakly.

__

'Hitokiri Battousai,' the blade supplied, arrogance gone. _'A name I earned long ago with my first true bearer, in the bloody streets of Kyoto, striking down humans and Kin alike.'_

"Humans and Kin?" Kenshin echoed, feeling as if a cold wind had blown through his soul.

__

'As you told Yahiko, it's never that simple.' Chill wrapped him, trying to comfort. _'We fought for what we believed was right, Kenshin. As did our enemies. We were just... better.'_

"I take it you can hear him without touching him." Dr. Genzai had his sleeve shoved back, touching the faint remnants of the bruise left by werewolf teeth. "How long has that been going on?"

"Since last night," Kenshin answered honestly. "You're a doctor and a sorcerer?"

"It happens sometimes," Dr. Genzai said gravely. "An old story, but still new enough to you, I'd imagine. Young doctor learns European medicine, goes out to heal his people, has an encounter with Kin and survives. Gradually starts working in the Witch and Crowley community - you have no idea the injuries a human dealing with Kin can sustain. And most of them you can't explain short of dropping someone into the lion pit at the zoo."

"Tell me about it," Kenshin grumbled.

"Ah, that's right; you did have a rather close encounter with _Homo sapiens lycanthropus_, eh? Well. Most Crowleys remain only human, but some few of us learn we have a talent for magic. Healing spells were my downfall, I must admit. The body adapts to magic, becomes accustomed to it... it's rather an interesting phenomenon-" Genzai caught the alarmed look in Kenshin's eyes, and shook his head. "And then one day, if you're fortunate, or unfortunate, you're caught in a situation in which all that stands between you and death at another's hands is your magic. You strike, you survive - and you find yourself standing over the dead, draining away the last of their life to restore your own."

"I'm sorry," Kenshin said softly.

"I'm not," Dr. Genzai replied bluntly. "Not anymore. My grandchildren lost their parents a year ago, to damn Hexenbanner thugs who couldn't bear to see humans live with magic. They will _not_ lose me."

__

Hexenbanner? Kenshin asked.

__

'A 'stake' organization, as Kin these days call them,' Battousai filled in. _'Hexenbanner is covert, international, and highly annoying. They work in cells, which makes them difficult to fight on any better than a one-to-one basis, they often have diplomatic immunity, and their goal is to wipe all Witches and Sorcerers from the face of the planet. Ironic, given that magic is most humans' best defense against other Kin.'_

__

And you've killed them, Kenshin knew. _Even though they're human._

'When I've had to, yes. They murder people, Kenshin. Like Genzai. Like his granddaughters - who are _human, and innocent. How can I stand aside and let it happen?'_

That's not it, Kenshin thought darkly, suddenly angry. _That's not everything._

'Kenshin-'

I have to know! Pale fingers bit into blue upholstery. _I have to know what you are!_

I have to know why you kill...

Reluctance. A spark of anger, echoing his own. _'Then tell Genzai to stand back.'_

The words barely left his lips, when the maelstrom hit.

__

Must save must protect (must kill_) search heal touch find_ (mine!) _longing to laugh bleed breathe_ (heartbeat _hear follow_ take)-

__

Heartbeat.

Heartbeat.

"Easy, now." The words seemed to come from very far away, a match to the distant touch of hands on his. "Kenshin. Let me see your eyes."

Dazed, Kenshin looked up. "Battousai has a heartbeat."

Worry radiated through Genzai's ki. "Yes, well, that's interesting- oh."

Kenshin flinched from the sorcerer's shock of recognition. "It's important, that it is," he insisted.

"I know." There was a sudden, frightening gentleness in the doctor's tone. "Kenshin. This is important. Did you cut yourself? On this blade?"

"No. Should I? But... that would be foolish, that it would. You strike out with a blade, you don't turn it on yourself. Unless you must..." The maelstrom was fading, letting the world back into focus, but it was still _there_. Warm. Terrifying. Pulsing in time with his heartbeat, becoming as subtly familiar as the throb of his own veins. Kenshin buried his face in his hands. "I'm so confused."

"I imagine you are." Fingers gripped his shoulder, offering comfort. "Kenshin. I need you to look at this."

Kenshin blinked away the glint of light from Genzai's small hand mirror, warily eyeing the face within silvered glass. The pale shape he knew from year upon year, though there was a haunted set to violet eyes that hadn't been there last night-

__

Not violet.

Purple had faded, glinting with steely blue. The shifting shades themselves were framed by brows and bangs that weren't - quite - dark brown anymore. The brown-gold glints his dark hair should have had in the sunlight were _gone_, transmuted to glitters of pure scarlet.

"Breathe," the doctor ordered.

"What-" Kenshin swallowed dryly. "The werewolf was _gone_, he swore to it-"

Genzai put the mirror away in his kit. "What's happening to you has nothing to do with lycanthropy, and you know it."

Yes. He did. _"Why?"_

__

'I can't help it.' Battousai's tone held remorse, and resignation. _'You're - compatible to the specific pattern of my Kin infection, as the lab technicians might say. Your ki fits so well with mine - it's been over a century since the change happened this fast-'_

"If the rumors are true, he's a Muramasa blade," Genzai said at the same time. "One of the truly cursed ones. They take over their bearers. Change them. Usually they wipe out the human mind in the process. Fortunately for the rest of us, they _usually_ need some damn fool to cut themselves before they can take hold. But from the looks of you, Battousai doesn't." He fixed Kenshin with a gimlet gaze. "Get that thing back to Target Alpha while you still can."

* * *

"U-hu-hu-hu..."

Smoke drifted on the wind as the green-eyed hitokiri studied the apartment building his foe was using for sanctuary. Strands of long blue-gray hair blew in the wind, trailing over a black scarf.

"Go ahead and hide, Battousai." Jin-e tapped ash away from his cigarette, gaze tracing the ancient lines of power scribed on gray stone. Generations of spell-casters must have warded these walls, working in charms to hide, to protect... and to deceive, so hapless owners never realized they should be charging three times the rent. "Hide from me. Hide from the legend you made; hitokiri, cursed blade, demon of Kyoto. Hide from your own nature.

"The blood will call you out. You can't fight it. Not forever.

"Not when I know how to make you _angry_..."

* * *

Sano paced the worn tan carpet of his apartment living room, growling under his breath; a bad habit he'd picked up from Griswold down in the ME's office. Part of him wanted to tear through New York's streets, shaking informants upside down until some information fell out. The more sensible part of him, the part that had listened to Bakumatsu veterans like Captain Sagara and Battousai when they talked tactics, kept him here, where he had easy access to his computer, phone, and Target Alpha's information net. _Where is he, where is he... think, Sano. Himura's not dumb, and he's got enough sense to listen to Battousai. He's not coming back to his apartment. He's probably got better sense than to go in to the shop, either._

That had been a shock. _Wonderful Things_ was one of the places Target Alpha had kept a weather eye on since the day the New York office opened, noting it as one of the few hotspots of magical supplies uncontrolled by the local witch Clave. Kin had been customers there for over a century, drawn by its stock of crafts of bygone ages. Modern magic might run more to enchanted submachine guns than enchanted swords, but you still needed the right tools to work the spells into weapons in the first place. And when it came to writing out Deeds, handmade paper was flat out _it_. People who cut corners and used twenty-four pound copier stock to write demonic contracts on tended to end up as front-page photos on _USA Exposé_.

Or not, given that what was left of the idiot wizling often most closely resembled so much red wood-chipper mulch.

So far as Target Alpha knew, none of the owners had been Crowley, but that had never kept Kin out of the Dullahans' shop.

__

Only it's the Himuras' shop now, since Thomas Himura married Deirdre Dullahan, and she was Connor's last near relative, Sano recalled from the agency file. _Seems like Connor was just as happy Thomas took it over, too; file says Deirdre was a great street cop, but she was no shopkeeper._

A good street cop as far as humans went, but a damn unlucky one when it came to Kin. One night about fourteen years back she'd gone out on patrol. And hadn't come back.

__

Not unless you count the ashes we gave to the family. We had to make the ID by her dental records. After we pieced the skull and jaws back together. Kami, when werewolves go bad, they go bad.

Now her son had just managed to keep himself from being eaten by werewolves. Twice. What were the odds of that?

__

In New York? Not that slim, Sanosuke thought darkly. Stopped mid-pace, and sighed. _Okay. Himura's not anywhere he usually goes, or the NYPD would have pinned him down by now. So either C Spot's buddies got lucky-_

Heh. Against Battousai? Snowballs in a blast furnace would have a better chance.

__

Or Battousai's got him lying low someplace he thinks no one's going to look.

A mouse-slight scrape caught Sanosuke's ear; he stalked over to the nearest window, mindful of Kin abilities to climb with magical claws.

Nothing.

__

Someplace that doesn't have a phone? Damn it, Battousai, call _me-_

The phone rang. Sano snatched it. "Yeah." Anybody on this line knew who was at the other end - and if they didn't, well, he was in a mood to chew telemarketer throats anyway.

"It's you." The relief in Kenshin's voice was palpable.

"Yep." Sanosuke grinned, activating the circuits on his line that would start a trace. "Good to hear from you, Himura. You and the kid still in one piece? Hate to say it, but your apartment looks like hell."

"It was close."

Wind sighed in the background, Sano picked out a creak of branches against stone. _Outside. Someplace there's trees and buildings. So - either he's pretty sure he's not being watched, or Battousai's feeling paranoid, and they're outside so_ they _can watch. Not that you can call it paranoia when they_ are _out to get you._ "Look. Kenshin. I know you probably want to crawl under a rock and hide for about a month. I can't blame you. But you've kept it together pretty good so far. And I could really use your help. If you're up for it."

Silence. _Damn, I asked for too much, he's going to bolt-_

"Will it give you probable cause to stop C Spot's packmates?"

Sano nodded. "Good chance of that, yeah."

A quiet breath. "What do you want me to do?"

__

Looks like you lucked out, Battousai, buddy. Himura's got serious guts. Sano's lips quirked into a wry smile. "Don't suppose you could meet me near your shop, so I can walk you in there? We're still trying to narrow Jin-e down to motive, and if I knew exactly what Tani got from you, it'd help."

"Yes, I could, but - it was just poetry." He could hear the disgruntled note in that stressed voice. "Not even good poetry."

Sano snorted. "Trust me. If Tani bought it, it wasn't just poetry."

"All right. I'll get there as soon as I can, that I will. But," Kenshin swallowed dryly. "I have a problem."

"Yeah?" Sano drawled. He did _not_ like that note of controlled fear in Kenshin's voice. _Kami, please tell me Battousai didn't miss the werewolf infection._

"Your friend. I need - I need to get him away from me, that I do. Fast."

Sano frowned, attention caught by a flicker of shadow outside his kitchen window. _Pigeon? Or is there someone out there?_ "Say what?"

"I can hear him, Sanosuke." Kenshin's tone danced on the raw edge of panic, held back by sheer will. "Across the room, across the building - I can hear him. And it's getting stronger."

Sano's knuckles went white on the phone. _No way. Battousai wouldn't._

"He says he can't help it, he's sorry... Sano, please, where can we meet?"

Dark laughter raised the hackles on Sano's neck. "In hell, Battousai," a too-familiar voice snickered. "U-hu-hu-hu..."

Sano jumped aside. Bright steel slashed his phone instead of his throat, nicking his right hand, throwing sparks as the receiver died. _Now we see how you deal with bullets-_

Pain jolted down Sano's arm from the bleeding nick, sending his hand into spasms as it closed on his gun. He had it, but he couldn't aim, couldn't find the trigger to pull.

Jin-e stepped aside as the agent struggled backward, teeth gleaming in his wicked smile. "Don't even think about it, rooster-head. I won't _let_ you shoot."

__

Not possible. He didn't use that Edge on me - I would've seen his eyes!

"Surprised? Last night I just marked you with ordinary enchanted steel." The assassin held up his wakizashi, a smear of blood disappearing into steel. "This time... you're _mine_."

__

Blood sucked into the blade, Sano realized, staggering back and right, gun falling from a hand that burned like liquid fire. _Like when Battousai took in my blood. Damn, we thought he was the katana, not the wakizashi! He's marked me with a Muramasa blade-_

He wants a new host!

Desperation drove Sano into a dive under the desk, slamming his fist against a hidden glass panel. The force tore at part of his burning hand; as if the old scar Battousai had left on his finger had suddenly opened anew. _Never thought I'd have to use this thing-_

Heavy wood was flung aside with a laugh. Jin-e reached for the scruff of his neck. "You think hiding will help you? You're more of a fool than I imagined!"

Blood flowing from two cuts, Sano dodged the assassin's grasp, grimly reaching for what painted glass had kept hidden. Not a weapon. Not a defense, either; at least, not for him. A last-ditch measure most Target Alpha agents knew of, but never considered installing in their own homes... unless they'd seen someone's life and soul vanish forever, sucked into the cyborg hive-mind of the technological Virus.

Fighting magic's pull on his wounded hand, Sano flipped the single red switch. "Buh-bye."

Mad green eyes widened.

* * *

Ears still ringing from the blast, Jin-e stalked out of sight before the first sirens could pull up, sneer turned to a black frown. It wasn't right. Hosts weren't supposed to die before he wanted them to.

__

Bird-head wouldn't have made a good host anyway. Not the way his ki had been fighting the cut, aided by an old taint of Battousai's magic.

But it would have been so much _fun_ to face Battousai with his friend's face...

__

It doesn't matter. He's dead. If Battousai's not over the edge yet, he will be. Jin-e's smirk reappeared. _Especially if... oh, yes._

You shouldn't have gone to her, Battousai. You shouldn't have told her. She's Crowley now... and fair game. To any of us.

Not that her ignorance would have stopped him. But that she would _know_... oh, it made it so much sweeter.

Laughing, Jin-e vanished into the shadows.

* * *

"Sanosuke. Sanosuke!" Kenshin shook Kaoru's cell phone, heart in his throat, not wanting to believe what he'd heard. Not wanting to believe what he _wasn't_ hearing, through the dull ring of an empty line.

__

'Sanosuke!'

There was a stabbing pain in his right hand, a sense of tearing, of - _loss-_

'Sanosuke! No!'

The phone dropped from nerveless fingers. Dimly Kenshin heard Kaoru yelp and snatch it from air, felt Yahiko's hand touch his arm as his brother demanded to know what was wrong.

__

Everything is wrong. Everything.

It hurt, like a blow to the gut; like the moment one of New York's finest in sober, pressed uniform had knocked on the door, and he'd - known.

__

Mom's not coming home. Ever.

He'd known, because he'd _seen_, he'd _felt_; he'd sensed the raw grief around Sergeant Aidan, the awful, tearing hole where his mother's friendship had been.

__

Partner/loved-from-afar/lady who drives me home when I've had too many-

Brave, reckless lady who saved my life-

All of that, gone; and the sorrow and pain of the man, the horror of what he'd seen, had torn through a young boy in one blinding flash of grief.

__

And I never wanted to see that again. Ever.

So he'd shut it all away, buried that odd knowing so deep he'd forgotten it. Driven himself into the study of how _Wonderful Things_ ran, building walls around his heart of the shop and numbers and crafts of the past to the point that he didn't even care when his father brought home a new wife just a few months later. So long as he never felt that wrenching pain again, he didn't care what happened; and if he didn't love her, didn't hate her, he knew he'd never bleed for Sadako the way he had for his mother.

And it had worked. It _had_ worked - though when the hospital had notified him about the accident, and his first reaction had been _please, gods, not Yahiko too_-

So the walls had cracks. It didn't matter. They'd been holding.

They weren't anymore.

"Yahiko, give me a hand." Kaoru was gripping one of his shoulders, alternately pushing and tugging. "I think if we can get him back inside - okay, he wants a tree, we can do a tree..."

He leaned against the steady presence of the gnarled old apple tree in the building courtyard; the most ancient tree in this hidden garden, green fruits just beginning to swell on thin branches, with a slumbering sense of wisdom gained through years surviving New York. The warmth of sun-struck bark soaked through cotton. Kenshin pressed his shoulders against it and tried to think of nothing. Nothing at all.

__

It hurts.

'Sanosuke.' Steel keened its grief in his soul. _'I should have been there, I should have... gods_ damn _you, Jin-e!'_

"Kenshin!" Kaoru's hands shook his shoulders. "Kenshin, talk to us, you're scaring Yahiko-"

"Is not!" his brother interjected, indignant.

"Well, he's scaring _me_, you idiot!" Kaoru turned back to him. "Kenshin, snap out of it. I'd say you're pale as a ghost, but I'm getting the idea that that's _not_ funny anymore-"

"He's gone, Miss Kaoru," Kenshin whispered. "Sanosuke's gone."

"Oh. Oh, no." Kaoru raised a hand near her lips. "But... you've never even met him. Why are you crying?"

Pulling the saya from his obi, Kenshin smiled faintly through the tears, remembering one horrible night so many years ago. "Steel can't cry."

He sat down against the base of the tree, cradling the sword in his arms. _It's all right._

'Kenshin-'

No one... no one was there for me. There was this hole, this awful, gaping abyss where Mom's ki should have been, and no one else could see it. And I - I didn't know what was wrong with me, I just knew I was so alone, and it hurt... Kenshin closed his eyes, drawing in a shuddering breath. _No one should go through that alone. No one._

Thumb rubbing the braided hilt, he let Battousai's tears fall.

* * *

__

I want to panic.

Bokken in hand, Kaoru jumped off the last step of the bus, making sure she stayed in grabbing range of Yahiko. The kid had one of her outgrown speckled-yellow gis on over his torn t-shirt, a shinai over his shoulder, and a wide grin that belonged on a motorcyclist out to catch bugs with his teeth. And why not? He'd just walked by three of the meanest, ugliest gang-bangers on their piece of public transit, and none of the young thugs had dared do anything other than watch them walk away.

Oh, they'd meant to be trouble. Battousai might not be visible, and eyes seemed to glide over Kenshin's swordsman's outfit as if he were wearing a suit and tie, but her instructor's gi and blue hakama were quite obviously _not_ New York chic. Couple that with the fact that she was small, and pretty - Kaoru had taken one look their way and winced, all too aware that choosing clothes she could fight in now meant she'd have to put up with at least ten minutes of lewd comments. And you couldn't thump a man for comments, though if those tattooed hands strayed within a few inches, she'd smack first and claim attempted groping later.

Only as the smarmiest of the bunch drew a breath and swaggered toward their bench, Kenshin had just... looked at them. Cool. Calm. Eyes still raw with tears, creased in a faint, cold smile that somehow broadcast to the world he'd be just as cool and calm stepping over their prone corpses.

And the head thug had suddenly shut up, and led his boys away.

__

I really _want to panic._

Kenshin cocked his head to the side, as if listening to something she couldn't hear. "It's clear."

"Cool," Yahiko breathed, following his brother toward their closed shop. Two or three leather and plaid-clad loiterers were already hanging around the entrance, eyeing the posted hours and the _"Sorry, we're Closed"_ sign beside them with a frown.

__

That's right, Kenshin's usually working today. What a mess. "You're sure?" Kaoru asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Kenshin hesitated. "This... sense is new to me, that it is. I know I cannot pick up very much, or very far. But Tani's men had no sense of how to shield their ki. Were they here, I would know, that I would."

Kaoru listened to the rhythm of Irish working its way back into the man's voice, and tried not to sigh with relief. _Okay,_ that _sounds more like Kenshin._

__

Now if only he'd move _more like Kenshin, I'd stop wanting to scream and run for the hills._

No chance of that; Kaoru saw him slide through the waiting clients to unlock the door with a graceful ease that belied the quiet shopkeeper she knew he was. Quick. Subtle. Not Kenshin.

At least, not the Kenshin who'd never picked up a sword.

__

But this is what he could be, maybe, the kenjutsu instructor knew, trailing would-be customers inside. _I've seen Yahiko working at it, I know how much that kid loves the sword. If his brother ever let his guard down enough to try - there's potential there. I can see it._

"Sorry to have kept you - a sudden illness in the family - yes, Ms. Bivens, we did get the sistrums you were looking for. Twenty, was that right? About the other items... I think you might wish to buy malachite, instead of galena, if you truly mean your actors to wear the ground stone as eye-shadow."

"Hey, we're trying for real history here," the forty-dressed-as-twenty Ms. Bivens snapped her gum, drumming spangled nails on the sales counter with typical Brooklyn bored nonchalance. "Not just your typical Egypt-a-rama."

"And galena _would_ be accurate for the time you portray," Kenshin allowed. "It also has lead in it..."

"Ten minutes, and he'll have her take the green stone and think it's all her idea," Yahiko said under his breath, leading her through rows of shelves toward another locked door. He opened it, skipping through; following in his wake, Kaoru saw this small corridor actually led into a few rooms. _Bathroom, mini-break nook, inventory, computerized office - aha._

Yahiko was a step ahead of her, diving into the surprisingly modern file cabinets. "He keeps everything by alphabet here. Keeps it cross-referenced other ways on the computer, but he always says he wants something here he can grab if the lights go out."

Kaoru started flipping through folders from the other end of the open drawer. "So we're looking for a folder on Tani?"

"Yeah." Yahiko glared at manila and paper. "Stupid Stone Age waste of space..."

"You'd rather be on the computer." Kaoru moved from Tuppers to Thomases, and kept going forward. "Why aren't you? You have keys to the store."

"The _rest_ of the store, sure." Yahiko crossed his arms, glaring at the inactive monitor. "But he doesn't give me the password. He _never_ gives me the password."

__

Let's see, Kaoru thought wryly. _Have my little brother ticked off at me, or let a thirteen-year-old have access to my customers' records_ and _all my financial stuff. Gee, tough call._

Oh, and don't forget we're being sardonic because we're trying not to run screaming into the Hudson...

"Target Alpha is not the police, that they are not," Kenshin had told her back at her apartment, when she'd asked why they didn't just dial the supernatural equivalent of 911. "They are... think of them more as U.S. Marshals, with less people to answer to. They pursue killers. They step in to block the more vicious Kin from plots against the people of this city. But first and foremost, they eliminate evidence of the supernatural, so innocents are not caught up in human witch hunts." He'd caught her gaze with his own, steel-blue glinting in faded violet. "_We_ are evidence, Miss Kaoru."

"But-" Yahiko had started, wide-eyed.

"They have lost two field agents, Yahiko," his brother said matter-of-factly. "They will be angry. And anger clouds thought. Were we to approach them now, their first impulse would be to wipe our memories, take Battousai, and leave us to the NYPD."

"With those werewolves still out there?" Yahiko burst out. "We'd be sitting ducks!"

"Which is why we have to find the information Sanosuke asked for, isn't it?" Kaoru cocked her head, studying Kenshin. "We need a bargaining chip."

"That we do," Kenshin said softly.

She'd let Yahiko get a little ahead of them both walking down the corridor, then grabbed Kenshin's short ponytail. _When did he grow his hair out? Never mind - grab first, ask questions later._ "You could call them right now, couldn't you? Battousai has to know someone who'd believe you've got the sword. Right?"

__

"Itai, itai..." Kenshin rubbed the back of his head, half-heartedly trying to pry her hand off. "It's not that simple, Miss Kaoru. Most field agents don't come into headquarters unless it's a true emergency. There are codes, special numbers-"

"And Battousai's smart enough to know ways around all that. You could call them. But you won't." Kaoru tightened her grip. "Why am I getting the suspicious feeling that Target Alpha doesn't _trust_ Battousai?"

He sighed. "They don't, Miss Kaoru. He's Kin. Older than Target Alpha; older than many Kin here in New York. At least as old as the Bakumatsu. He is _not_ human. And while he has worked with them to protect humans for almost half a century, no, they do not trust him."

She let go of his hair. "So why do you?"

Kenshin had started to speak. Stopped. Shrugged helplessly. "Someone once said, a friend is someone who sees through you and still likes the view. I've seen him, Miss Kaoru. I feel his ki against mine like the first winds of a storm, sweeping over the horizon. If I said he did not frighten me, I would be lying." He took a breath. "But he saved my life. And Yahiko's. And... he hurts, Miss Kaoru. Sanosuke was his friend, and he hurts so very deeply. Human or not, I will not yield him into the hands of those who hate him."

__

You found a dragon with a thorn in its paw, and you just can't walk away, Kaoru thought now. _Japanese duty mixed in with Irish stubborn, what a mess. Only in New York._

"...Tani, Jusanro," Yahiko yanked the thin folder out. "Gotcha."

"Then let's get out of here," Kaoru said decisively. "You grab Kenshin, I'll start getting the customers out." From what Battousai had told her, Jin-e was crazy even for Kin, ignoring the supernatural creatures' unwritten rule number three: keep Kin fights among Kin _only_. If he'd tracked them here, a crowd of ignorant bystanders wouldn't do anything but add to the casualty list.

She nodded at Kenshin as they came to the front. He glanced at the folder in Yahiko's hands, and gave her a relieved smile as he set a nervous art student's parcel of inks and brushes by the register and picked up the phone. "I need to speak to Uramura, please," Kaoru overheard him say. "Yes, I know this line is unlisted - no, I will _not_ hold. Tell him Sagara asked me to provide him information, personally." Kenshin's voice dropped, pleasantness stretched thin. "On Kurogasa. Or is that not important enough for his time?"

"Oh, my, that sounds serious," an older lady pressed a purple-gloved hand to her lips in prim disapproval as she gathered up her packages. Fumbled one to the floor, and sighed. "These bones get creakier every year..."

"Here, let me help you with those." Kaoru scooped parcels of several stores, including just one from _Wonderful Things_, off the floor, and opened the front door with a smile.

"So thoughtful of you, dear." Gray-streaked head held high, the lady strode out toward a waiting cab. "Would you mind...?"

"No, of course not." Kaoru balanced the extra packages in her arms, heading for the waiting backseat. Most of her mind was on keeping hold of the wrapped parcels; the lady couldn't have chosen more awkward shapes to fit together if she'd tried. But no kendo instructor ignored people completely; she saw the lady stumble slightly over an irregular slant of the concrete sidewalk, and recover her footing, and felt her nerves tighten. _Wait. That wasn't an old woman's move._

"Federal agent," the woman said, the old lady's querulous tone dropping from her voice like a discarded scarf. "Your life is in danger. Get into the car."

"Like heck!" Kaoru dropped the parcels and tried to bolt.

A thunderbolt cut her legs from under her. _Tazer. God-_

"You'll thank us for this later," the disguised woman muttered, bending over her with cuffs in hand. "The man in there - he's _not_ who you think he is. He's under the influence of someone wanted for a particularly brutal homicide. I just hope Weston can get the kid out before the control team has to go in-"

__

Smack! Crack!

Bokken in her right hand, Kaoru yanked the fish hooks out and cracked the agent another blow across her right arm for good measure. Her legs still felt like jelly, but she could move. _Thank god for Dad's lessons. "If you're going to use it for self-defense, know what it feels like to get hit by it."_

Oh god, Kenshin wasn't kidding. They're after Battousai - they're going to try to take Yahiko! She dashed for the shop.

A roaring motorcycle engine caught her first.

Still-numb feet left the ground; she saw a blur of red slam the shop door open. "Miss Kaoru!"

The black glove was hot and heavy over her mouth, thick with a sweet, perilous scent. A swordsman's arms crushed her to the dark-cloaked frame with inhuman strength. "I see it, I _see_ it, Battousai! I see this girl is your host's _woman!_"

Kenshin dashed after them down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians, agents, and a three-card Monte game, face pale with fear and shock. "Jin-e, you monster!"

"Get mad! Get mad!" The assassin sneered, weaving down the sidewalk as if pedestrians were so many ants to be crushed. "Get mad like you did last night, when I slashed your bird-haired friend; like you did this morning, when I _killed_ him! Wipe out that fool of a host; turn back into your old self of the Bakumatsu!"

Green eyes glowed with anticipation. "Into the incomparably cruel hitokiri..."

Gloved fingers left her face a moment, flicked a strip of paper into the wind. "I'll wait here, Battousai!"

Kaoru gulped in untainted air, fighting to stay conscious. "Kenshin!"

The motorcycle roared under them, swooping into the street, pulling away from Kenshin with uncaring ease. "Uhu-hah-hah-hah!"

**__**

"Jin-e!"

And just as the drug overwhelmed her, Kaoru could have sworn violet eyes melted into pure, blazing amber.

* * *

__

He took her.

I'm going to kill him.

Kenshin breathed hard, one fist clenched on the Japanese writing he'd snatched from the wind, unable to sort his own rage from the frozen fury that was Battousai. Unable, for one long moment, to care.

__

He took her!

'And he will pay...'

Knuckles white, Kenshin looked up. Something was off. A feeling of wind, of space, that just shouldn't exist on a New York sidewalk.

There wasn't a person within twenty feet. And anyone just outside that range - including the formerly intrepid card dealer - was hastily finding an elsewhere to be. _What-?_

'Oh, k'so.'

"Edging in public." The disguised agent raised a shaking weapon. "Take him down!"

__

I don't think so.

Kenshin yielded to the cold fury, tracking the path of the tranquilizing darts before they could come anywhere near him. He dodged two, ducked aside from a third; reached out to brush the fourth, slowest, from whistling air. "I hope you're not allergic," he growled.

"Wha-"

The gray-haired agent gasped as the dart went home in her own neck. Her eyes rolled up, and she collapsed.

__

'Gray wig,' Battousai observed in disgust as it fell free. The sword took control long enough to dig his fingers behind her ear, coming up with a miniature two-way radio. _'She's one of Uramura's!'_

A control team member dressed for daylight work. Like that would-be "art student" he'd left unconscious with Yahiko when he'd felt Kaoru's bolt of fear...

__

Yahiko!

'I know control teams.' Battousai drew dimming shadow about his ki, controlling their mingled rage with chill precision. _'Uramura errs on the side of caution. We still have a few seconds.'_

Just enough time.

He dashed back into the shop, grabbing a startled yellow gi. "Kenshin," his brother started, shinai pointing at the unconscious agent sprawled behind the counter, "You want to stop and tell me why you hit this- urk!"

Yahiko slung over his shoulder, he locked the door. Stepped into the reforming New York crowds. And _vanished_.

__

'It's not magic,' Battousai pointed out, guiding Kenshin's steps to match the flow of the crowd. _'You know how New Yorkers move._ I _know how to use crowds to hide. Meld it together, and we become invisible.'_

"Um - down - you _mind?_"

Stepping out of the flow into a nook between two shop doors, Kenshin lowered Yahiko to the sidewalk. "I'm sorry, that I am. We had to move quickly."

"Unconscious lady on the sidewalk, trank darts - yeah, I got that," Yahiko waved his hands. "What happened? Where's Kaoru?"

"Jin-e took her." Just when he'd gotten yet another of Uramura's underlings on the phone, and realized the control team leader was stalling for time - damn Jin-e, that had to have been deliberate! The hitokiri could cloak his ki; the bastard could have come and gone, and he'd never have known anything was wrong until Kaoru's fear blazed like a beacon.

__

'He meant to keep Target Alpha from interfering. He meant to taunt us. He meant-'

To make you angry enough to take me, Kenshin finished silently.

The sword's rage shook him with teeth of steel. _'I want him dead!'_

And yet he was still holding back. Kenshin felt that iron control, that slim hold of honor and will over pure, focused instinct. The tearing agony of _choice_.

__

'If I gave in - if I took _you - I would be no more than Jin-e is. A curse upon the world; a tainted blade delighting only in the taste and color of blood. I will not live as such a creature!_

'Sanosuke wouldn't want that...'

"Jin-e _took_ her?" Yahiko gulped. "Why?"

"The same reason he led those werewolves to our doorstep," Kenshin said softly. "The same reason he killed Sanosuke. He wants a fight. With Battousai."

"But you're not going to do it," Yahiko said fiercely. "Kenshin! You told us about this guy, remember? He's not easy, not like those werewolves. He's a killer! You can't - you _can't_-"

"If I don't go, Miss Kaoru will die," Kenshin said matter-of-factly. Stroked mussed dark hair, staring at his little brother's face as if he could etch it into his heart. "And then he will come for you. And I... cannot let that happen."

__

'Kenshin.' Fury had humbled, softened. _'Are you sure?'_

Will you look after Yahiko? After... Kenshin swallowed, mouth dry.

__

'I am not Jin-e. If you choose this,' Longing swept him, still held by fraying strands of honor. _'If you choose me,_ we _will look after him.'_

"Then there's nothing else to say." Loosening the blade in its sheath, Kenshin rested his thumb against the razor edge. And slashed it down.

"Kenshin, you idiot!" Yahiko grabbed his bleeding hand. "What did you do - that - for..." Meeting his brother's gaze, he went pale. "Your _eyes_..."

"We need a cab," Kenshin stated. "I'm going to send you someplace safe." _If anywhere is safe._

'Katsuhiro Tsukioka is safe,' Battousai said bluntly. _'He's Crowley, connected to Golgotha, a vampire Elder even the head of Target Alpha won't cross, and - he was Sano's friend. There's nowhere safer.'_

You're sure, Kenshin asked some few minutes later, as he watched the yellow cab pull away with his brother and a copied note for Tsukioka. He felt - dizzy. Odd. His cut thumb burned, as if he'd rubbed it in cayenne.

__

'I'm sure the change is going to start soon, and Yahiko shouldn't see it.' A soft sigh. _'Let's go. We need to be out of sight... and the closer we are to where Jin-e wants us, the more time we'll have.'_

"It would help if I knew where he wanted us, that it would," Kenshin muttered, making his way through the crowds.

__

'Just read the note.'

"I don't read Japanese!"

__

'Sou ka? Then how did you send Yahiko with a copy?'

Kenshin unfolded inked characters. Shapes blurred, turning from scribbled art to lines of meaning and purpose.

__

Central Park. Midnight.

"How-" Kenshin shook the question away. "So where do we go?"

__

'We're going to be unconscious several hours.'

"In _Central Park?_"

__

'That's why I want you up in a tree.'

"I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this..."

* * *

__

'Climbing is not as hard as it looks, Kenshin,' Battousai said sometime later, as they worked their way up into an ancient oak. _'Grip there, plot your path to the next few branches, find the next hold-'_

Kenshin paused, wiping sweat from his face with his sleeve. It was summer, but not that hot. Fire lanced down his nerves from his hand. And he ached. Horribly. _I'm running a fever._

'There is a reason Target Alpha calls it a Kin infection.' Distraction touched him. _'Up there. We'll be out of sight, and there's enough room to curl up.'_

Anything to stop. Just for a while. He struggled up the last foot, cramping himself into a thicket of interwoven branches over a strong supporting limb. Leaned against the trunk, too weary and sick to care if there were ants lurking in wait. Shivered. _Is this what dying is?_

'Oh, young one. You're not dying.' Battousai's voice was within and without, stroking his ki as a potter would new clay, testing it in his grip before molding it into the form he sought. _'You've never been more alive.'_

The pain intensified, and Kenshin's fingers bit into tree bark. It _felt_ like dying.

__

'I'm sorry. I could ease this if we had more time-'

Don't! Kenshin thought fiercely. _Kaoru..._

'Then sleep, young one. Sleep through as much of it as you can.'

Another pulse of fire radiated from the cut, and everything went dark.

* * *

__

Anything. Battousai marveled at the reality; he was here, free, with a willing bearer, and none of the magical bonds he'd been forced to take over the decades working with Target Alpha. _I can do anything. Touch anything. Change anything._

Change everything...

The ki was both the easiest and hardest to shift. Easy, in that it had already begun to be accustomed to him, shaping itself to his presence. Hard, in that here lay the heart of all his work. Every change, every magic he worked on Kenshin's form, would rest on this foundation.

__

And this I have been bound from, so many years...

Battousai sank into the human's ki like tears into a still pool, dissolving bits of his magic, his very self, to mix with its farthest edges. Other bearers had bound him to change only that one point where his ki linked with theirs; a weld that could be broken by Target Alpha's sorcerers at need, not the layered alloy of magic and ki he craved. It sufficed, but it left him weak. Unable to exercise his full strength.

__

And Kenshin will need all of that.

Something jolted against his magic. If he'd been flesh, he would have swallowed back a sudden feeling of nausea. _'Kenshin. Easy, now. Don't fight. This is right. This has to happen... oh kami, I have not had the freedom to do this since Kyoto...'_

He fed in more of his magic, blending it into the fire of a human spirit before Kenshin could struggle. Stroked it in, tantalizing his host into accepting it with the projection of warmth, home, rightness. Nuzzled at the changing ki, smothering the human's instinctive alarm with all his gratitude, his caring, his respect for Kenshin's love of his brother, his joy in Kaoru's stubborn strength.

Gradually the struggle ceased. Stilled. _Battousai..._

Still aware of him. Amazing. Though he could feel that awareness diffuse, confused; beginning to toss and turn as it found itself - different. Lacking. _Needing._

__

Everything I am, is here for you.

The form might be human, but the ki was balanced on a knife-edge. He felt it searching itself. Regarding his offer.

And then it chose.

__

Mine, oh kami, mine...

Battousai felt part of himself swept within Kenshin's soul, felt it knot on itself and fall into oblivious sleep.

__

'It's all right. Rest now. The hardest part is over. Or yet to come.'

Now there was only the waiting, and the changing. The physical alterations were simple enough; now that their pattern rang through Kenshin's ki, living itself would have led his body to shift.

__

But to face Jin-e, we cannot be human. Even for one night.

So he worked through sunset into night, burning magic to shape flesh and bone closer to its final form. Here was strength, and here agility, and here the dire, terrible speed that was the hallmark of Hiten Mitsurugi. There wasn't enough time to shape it all, Jin-e hadn't left them that, but every bit he could do was that much more in favor of Kaoru's survival-

Something shivered.

Abandoning his work, Battousai shifted against his bearer's soul, feeling it tremble like a chrysalis in spring. _Yes. That's it. Push, little one. Just a little harder..._

And the hard knot cracked, spilling forth light and fire.

__

'Welcome back, Kenshin.'

* * *

__

Aniki - older brother.  
_Sumimasen_ - Excuse me.  
_Itai_ - ow.  
_K'so_ - "Damn."  
_Sou ka?_ - Is that so?


	4. Chapter 4

Kenshin breathed in consciously, as if his lungs had forgotten their purpose and had to be reminded. _I hurt. Everywhere._

'I know.'

Warm, so warm; why had he ever thought Battousai was cold? _I feel-_ Gods, he couldn't even begin to sort it out. It was night, he knew it was night and quiet here as New York ever got, and yet there was _light_ and _color_ and _sound-_

'Stay still, Kenshin. Give yourself some time. I can help, and your instincts will _help, once they catch up with you. But no one goes from human to Kin without some time to adjust.'_

"Instincts?" he whispered, wincing at the sudden loudness. There was an odd tingling in his fingertips, an urge to dig his fingers into bark and _scratch_.

__

'Kin aren't that different from humans, no matter what they think. But the strength of the instincts is greater than you're used to... Ah. I hadn't expected that change to move so swiftly, I didn't think it was needed. Your body must have thought otherwise.'

"Change?" Kenshin scratched at the trunk of the tree, marveling at the rough and smooth under his touch, feeling something in his fingertips stretch and ease, stretch and ease and _stretch_-

__

Hardness slid through skin in ten points of fire, flaking away human fingernails, drawing a gasp with blood. Kenshin raised a shaking hand, the scent of his own blood carrying on the breeze from the tips of the bone-white claws gracing his fingers.

__

'Perfect.'

Kenshin swallowed dryly, feeling that odd sense of contentment washing over his fear as he flexed the new claws. "This-"

__

'Is what you are now. Is what we _are.'_ A shy touch in his soul. _'You said you trusted me...'_

"I do," Kenshin whispered. "Even now. Especially now." He wanted to shake. He wanted to run. He wanted... to laugh and shout joy to the skies, for the world was new and bright and full of wonder. "That is what frightens me." He drew a breath, tasting the scents on the wind. "What time is it?"

__

'Almost midnight.'

Time, then. He stood on the sturdy branch. Stretched carefully, trying to sort sensations that felt right and wobbly at the same time, like a kitten making its first pounce. Gauged the ground below, and jumped.

__

Wait-

There literally wasn't time to panic. One moment his brain had just woken up to the fact that he'd jumped off a two-story branch. The next-

He touched down on clipped grass, flexing into the impact with graceful ease.

__

'Hmm... I did wonder when you'd notice you'd lost that unreasonable distaste for heights,' Battousai laughed.

Kenshin caught his breath, staring at hands that, oddly, refused to shake. "Given that most people cannot drop thirty feet and remain unscathed, it was a very _reasonable_ distaste for heights." Gingerly he touched that place in himself that had always quailed from the edge. There should be fear, panic, trembling...

__

Difference met that mental exploration. A shift that felt of steel and night, so subtly altered that he couldn't pick out any one thing and say _this has changed_. But together- _Am I... still me?_

'You are. But you have woven yourself together with me, and the whole of us is different from either of us alone.' The teasing note dropped from the sword's tone. _'Kenshin. I know you are still afraid. But you must fear_ later. _Jin-e has had his host for several weeks, at least; you have borne me for less than a day. I have done all I can, but he will be stronger than we are. If you do not fight with your whole heart, he will kill us both.'_

And Kaoru will die. He felt his eyes narrow into a hard glare. _Let's go._

The note hadn't specified where in Central Park, but that hardly mattered. Stretching out his senses, Kenshin caught the shivering edge of Kaoru's fear, mingled with desperate determination. _She's still trying to fight._

'As Jin-e planned.'

"Why is he doing this?" Kenshin whispered, heading toward that familiar ki. "If he's anything like you - he can't be just doing this for Miss Kaoru's fear."

__

'He is not _like me!'_

"You _choose_ to be not like him," Kenshin replied, facing that raw fury head-on. It was wild, grieving, headstrong as a hurricane made flesh... but he could bear it. He could. "There is a difference."

__

'I...'

"Tell me," Kenshin pleaded. "I know it hurts you to think of. I know that what you could be, what Jin-e _is_, is a darkness in you that you do not wish to touch. But if I am to save Miss Kaoru, I _must_ know."

__

'You are... braver than I could ever have imagined...' The thoughts brushing his mind were halting, pain-filled. _'During the Revolution... we were both hitokiri, he and I. Killers, assassins, raining blood on the streets of Kyoto. I for the side my bearer thought was right, he for whoever would allow him to bathe his steel in the blood of men.'_ A silent sigh. _'And for all that, I am the one legends paint as the demon of Choshu, the killer whose red blade brought the Shogunate to its knees. While he... he is only a bitter memory.'_

Kenshin almost stumbled over the edge of a park path. "He's _jealous?_"

__

'In a sense,' Battousai said softly. _'For all that he has done, all the lives he has taken, what he does to his hosts means he will ever be alone. While I - I, the assassin whose very name made brave men quail - I have had friends. Comrades. Family.'_

Kenshin's eyes widened. _Family?_

'You're surprised?' A bittersweet laugh. _'My first true bearer, he who earned the name Hitokiri Battousai, was a kind and gentle man. After the fighting was done, he found a young woman who did not care who he had been. They married. Started a family. And then-'_

Kenshin touched the raw edges of bloody memories; the attack of the Meiji assassins, sent to eliminate one who knew too much for the government's comfort. The bitter fight to drive them off, demolishing much of a small village in the process. The soul-rending agony as he poured magic and herb-craft and love into a baby - _his_ little one, with a ki too bright to be human and his mother's brilliant violet eyes - struck by a poisoned shuriken.

The grief, as he took his small family across the wide ocean, praying the distance would be great enough...

__

'But it was not. Not for me.' A sigh. _'I think I saved them. I pray I saved them.'_

"You're him," Kenshin said softly, listening for any rustle that might mean muggers in the greenery. Time was drawn too thin for distractions. "Not just the sword."

__

'Pieces of him, I think. I was within him, as I am within you. We had been bound for almost two decades, our tie ever deepening. When he died... much of what was him awoke within me.' Hesitation. _'It was startling. I have older memories, you've sensed them, but - they are instinct. Emotion. To go from being a creature nestled against a human soul by raw reflex, to a_ person _- it was a shock as great as yours, accepting me.'_

Or more, Kenshin thought. "What was his name?"

__

'I can't remember.' Old grief. _'I would that I could. Target Alpha has a research division. I could look for them, find them - or at least know what happened. Did I save them? Did she find another to love? Did my son live, grow, find love of his own? Were they... happy?'_

"I know something about historical research," Kenshin said thoughtfully. "After we save Miss Kaoru, I'll help you look, that I will."

__

'Confident.'

"Terrified," Kenshin corrected, mouth dry. He heard the rushing rumble of a park waterfall, felt Kaoru's fear and determination see-sawing back and forth... and there, there was the cruel flicker that was Jin-e.

__

'Put away your fear.' Again, that feeling of silken scales wrapped him, as if his soul were clad in living armor. _'He fights for hate. We fight for_ life. _And we must not, cannot, lose...'_

"It's midnight," a faint, too-familiar voice drifted out of the clearing ahead. "No more time to chat." Brass clicked on brass, an antique watch snapping closed. "It's the beginning of a wonderful moment."

__

Put away fear. Kenshin strode through the low bushes, feeling Battousai's knowledge rise up within him, coupling sight and sound and energy-sense to know exactly how the rocky footing near the waterfall would and would not hold, once steel sang free. _This is what I chose. What_ we _chose._

"Eh, Battousai?"

"Kenshin!" Bound hand and foot on her knees, a thin line of red drying on her neck, Kaoru's smile mingled fear and relief. "You _idiot_..."

He looked up, and the words died on her lips.

__

She sees. She knows.

I'm sorry, Miss Kaoru.

And even that grief was set aside, lost in a swordsman's unending _now_.

* * *

Kaoru stared into hard, steely blue, and tried not to cower.

"You don't know what you're doing!" she'd lashed at Jin-e, once she'd come around and realized escape wasn't currently an option. "I don't know what you want, but you're not going to get it! Kenshin's not your enemy. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. I know him, he's just a shopkeeper-"

"A Himura as a shopkeeper? Hah!" Jin-e snicked his cigarette alight, sneering.

Kaoru fought the urge to jump up and down and thwack him with her bokken. Bound as she was, she'd just end up plastered on her face in the grass. Sweat beaded on her face from her subtle attempts to wriggle free of the ropes, dripping stinging salt into the slim cut along her throat; a welcome, painful distraction from the fear. _Keep your cool. Cuts heal. If he'd decided to slap you awake instead of slice you - you've seen what a guy's backhand can do._ "He's not Battousai! Kidnapping me won't make Kenshin easier to fight; he barely knows which end of the sword to hold as it is! You have no idea who he is-"

"You're the one who has no idea who he really is, little girl." Jin-e blew smoke into the clearing. "I didn't take you to make Battousai _easier_ to fight."

Kaoru gaped. "What...?"

Too many teeth gleamed in his smile. "With you as a hostage, Battousai will be enraged. Rage will turn him back into the hitokiri he was decades ago. The killer who hungers for the life of men, whose name alone made the most hardened assassins tremble at their own shadows. A cursed blade who will finally forsake that silly vow of his, never to take a human host against his will.

"Fighting for my life against that blade... it will be the _best_ killing."

__

Oh god, I'm going to die here, she'd thought then, redoubling her efforts to struggle out of the cruel ropes. Half of her was glad, and half of her was angry, and all of her was terrified. Kenshin _wouldn't_ let Battousai take him, she knew that. He was kind, and he was gentle - and Battousai had made it clear to everyone just how much _he_ wasn't.

And she was glad Kenshin wouldn't let that happen, she was - but she didn't want to die here.

__

Selfish, selfish Kaoru. Wanting someone else to give up their soul so you can live a little longer.

It doesn't matter what I want, she'd shot back at her conscience. _It's not going to happen. So if I'm going to die, I might as well do it kicking and screaming!_

Only it had happened. Somehow. The face was Kenshin's, the clothes - though a little torn and leaf-speckled - the simple red gi and off-white hakama from this morning. But the stance...

The stance cried out to a kendo instructor's eye, terrifyingly beautiful. _Look! See! This is what we strive for. This the heart of our techniques._

__

The soul and the sword are one...

If her father had only known, he'd have switched to firearms on the spot.

"Fine eyes," Jin-e said, smile gleaming with predatory anticipation. "Full of rage."

"Rage..."

And the voice was and wasn't Kenshin's as he strode forward, dark and angry and chill as night.

"...At you, who involved Kaoru-dono. And at me, who couldn't prevent it."

"Me, eh? I knew you'd come around." Jin-e drew his katana, gaze never leaving Kenshin as the younger swordsman drew in turn, both rings of steel softened by the falling water behind them. "Now if only you'd turn over that odd blade..."

The sakabatou gleamed in stray light from New York's usual weekend overcast, casting back uncanny blue fire. A glint of that fire seemed to sweep over Kenshin; just enough light to cast folds of cotton into sharp relief, turn pulled-back hair from night's indistinct gray to fiery red.

__

Red hair? Kaoru felt her heart constrict. The flash of light vanished, darkness leaching colors to gray once more. But that pale shade she could see _couldn't_ be brown.

"...We'd have our legendary hitokiri back."

__

"Shut up."

And steel raced at steel.

* * *

"One foot in front of the other, and you'll be walkin' cross the floor; one foot in front of the other, something something..." Losing his train of thought for somewhere around the forty-eleventh time since he'd fought his way back to consciousness, Sanosuke unlocked the back door of Katsuhiro Tsukioka's print shop. Staggered inside. Pried open eyes that had somehow blinked shut. "Weird. Even this late, somebody ought to be here-"

A sudden draft drew his wandering attention to the door that led toward the front. A dark-haired woman he vaguely recognized as one of Katsu's assistants gaped at him. Paled. Shrieked.

__

Okay, so maybe I do look a little rough around the edges, Sano admitted, leaning on a stainless-steel sink. The familiar, bitter-edged scent of ink tickled his nose, clearing some of the dizzy fog. _No reason to screech at me..._

Quiet footfalls approached. A strong hand closed on his shoulder, pale skin discolored with stray drops of red, green, and ever-present black. "Huh. You look pretty lively for a dead man." Lank black hair falling over his headband, Katsuhiro's perpetual frown softened into something that might pass for a smile. "You stubborn bastard. Get in here."

"Dead?" Sano said blankly. "Who said I'm dead?" Sure, he'd punched the panic button. Blown out his apartment, a good piece of his floor, and probably half the windows on the block. And buried himself in a closet keyed to only open to a human touch, praying Target Alpha would find him before Jin-e could take him completely.

Only as the exhausted agent stared at his bleeding hand, he'd seen two cuts running red. Two sources of unnatural sparks; one sickly green, the other fierce amber.

Sparks died, and there was only blood.

__

Whaddya know, Sano had thought blearily. _Sword against sword; they cancelled each other out._ He'd grinned a little. _Saved me again, 'Sai. Thanks._

And passed out.

He wasn't sure how long it had taken him to fight back awake, dig out, and get here. Hours, at least. But _dead..._

"You know a Yahiko Myojin Himura?" Katsu asked neutrally.

Himura. Battousai. _Jin-e._ "Oh, _hell_," Sano swore, fighting to concentrate. "Where is he? You got wards up? Kid could have all kinds of tails - werewolves, sorcerers, who knows what else - where's his brother?"

"He came alone." Katsuhiro wrapped an arm around him, helping him toward the front. "Sit down. I'll get a healing talisman. You're not going to be in any shape to handle this until that concussion's gone."

__

Sake, empty cups, lot of quiet whispers... looks like I walked into a wake, Sano realized, half-falling into a wooden chair. _Mine?_

But it was the mussed dark hair in the chair beside him that caught his attention. Speckled yellow gi over street clothes, shinai and twisted manila folder beside him, tan hands wrapped around a mug full of Katsu's best hot chocolate. A thirteen-year-old face that echoed photos he'd dredged up of Thomas Himura, and looked as if it had stared the abyss in the eye. "Yahiko?"

The kid jerked his head up, dark eyes wide. "Who are you?"

Sano held out a battered hand. "Sanosuke Sagara."

Yahiko shrank back. "Kenshin said you were _dead_."

"I've been better," Sano admitted. _Why the hell would he- oh. Oh,_ hell.

Battousai had warned him the mark was permanent. That it'd last as long as they both did; a link between their energies, open for the sword no matter where or when he chose to reach out.

__

Mark's gone. 'Sai thinks I'm _gone._

And Himura sent his brother to Katsu.

This is not good.

Katsuhiro dropped a fine silver chain over his head, holding the smoke-quartz pendant attached to it until he could rest it against Sano's shirt. "I know you hate using these. _Don't_ take it off."

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." Sano felt the healing magic kicking in, relaxing him against his will. Deliberately clenched his fists, stomping on the reflex to tug the chain off and throw it across the room. _Hate stuff that messes with my head. Bad as painkillers._ But Katsuhiro _had_ said concussion, which meant it was either let the talisman work or have Katsu dump him in a human emergency room. And he had an awful, sinking feeling he didn't have time for a hospital.

"You'd better," Katsuhiro warned. "Street says Uramura's on the warpath." _And he knows something_, the artist's slide of eyes toward Yahiko said. _But he won't talk to me._

__

Got it, Sano nodded, waiting until Katsu had left him a cup of coffee and swept off to start breaking up the wake. "Okay, kid. Spill. What the hell happened?"

Yahiko's cup rattled against the table, shaken by trembling hands. "He took Kaoru!"

__

Kaoru? Who the heck? Wait - Kaoru Kamiya? Yahiko's kendo instructor? _So that's where you went to ground! Trust 'Sai to head for swords._ "He what?"

"He took her! Jin-e!" One young hand dropped off the mug, clenched into a fist. "Kenshin tried to call Uramura but he couldn't get past some jerk on the phone and Kaoru went outside with a lady but the lady was some kind of spy with trank darts and her partner in the store tried to grab me and Kenshin hit him and ran outside and that's when I heard Jin-e laughing and Kenshin _screamed_, I've never heard him scream-"

"Breathe, kid." Sano rubbed the shaking shoulders, mentally cursing Uramura to a midwinter dip in the Hudson. Hopefully in a lead-weighted chainmail bikini. _Damn it, we covered this in planning years ago! Battousai's not _safe,_ but he keeps his word. We had an agreement! If Battousai's host goes down, the human partner has jurisdiction to get the sword back to headquarters-_

Only he'd effectively taken himself out of the equation. And Uramura had finally had the chance to "handle the item properly", as the control team leader had not-so-quietly put it.

__

Oh gods. The bastard backed Battousai into a corner.

And Jin-e's got a hostage.

Paper was shaking in front of his nose, covered in Japanese characters. "Kenshin said - this was where Jin-e was going," Yahiko got out. "And - he was going after him. And his _eyes_..."

Sanosuke took the scribbled text, dreading what he had to ask. "Amber?"

Wordless, Yahiko nodded.

__

Oh gods, 'Sai, no.

Pushing aside sick dread, Sano read the rough characters. No one under Captain Sagara's wing got out of learning to read Japanese; Katsuhiro could attest to that. "Midnight." He looked at the nearest clock, a quiet battery-powered number hanging on the right-hand wall, second hand sweeping away the past. "We might have just enough time."

* * *

Steel rang against steel, quickening his heart. Feet raced over uneven ground, burning a circle into grass, all too aware that his opponent was circling with the same blurring speed. There was no time to think; only to move and run and _strike_.

__

Ryuu Sou Sen!

The Dragon's Nest reached out to entangle the assassin, striking vital points at random - only to be blocked by a flurry of blows.

__

He's strong!

A waver of eyes and ki; Kenshin leapt away the same moment Jin-e did, sword in his left hand, catching his breath before they circled once more.

"Uhu-hu-hu... u-hah!" Green eyes glowed, blazing over a sneer.

__

Force - pressure - freezing-

'I don't think _so!'_

"Useless!" Kenshin shattered the ki assault with a twist of fury, glaring into his enemy's deadly eyes. "Shin no Ippou is a battle of wills! When that will is matched, it _will not work!_"

The assassin only laughed. And charged.

__

'Read his movement!' Battousai held him, ready to leap or strike or dodge in a heartbeat. _'First - one-handed flat thrust!'_

Easy, so easy to just step aside, steel passing where he'd been a second ago...

A scuff of Jin-e's foot, and Battousai almost nodded. _'The form of_ one _- side swing-'_

He ducked, steel whistling over his hair. Jin-e strode in.

'Ten _- the bamboo splitter.'_ Battousai tensed with anticipation. _'Now-'_

His hands twisted, intercepting the downward strike not with his own blade, but the pommel of the sakabatou-

__

'Break his stance!'

And Jin-e was falling backward, right arm flung back by the force of his own blow. Open. _Vulnerable_.

He raced toward the man, ready to strike, to _finish_ this-

"Uhu...hu-hu..."

Jin-e's arm kept moving back, twisting behind his shoulders, meeting the left from the other side.

__

What?

And Kenshin felt the katana's point stab home in his shoulder, twisting out with a sickening lurch as he fell away.

The ground... hurt.

Wet warmth seeped out of his wound, staining torn grass. The coppery taste of blood hung on the air.

"You read everything, until my backwards wheel." Jin-e's laughter ached at his ears. "Stubborn, stubborn Battousai. Leaving part of your host still alive? In three cigarettes' time, I could kill you _both_."

"Kenshin!"

__

Kaoru, no! Don't draw his attention-

"Enough playing." Darkness swirled in Jin-e's ki, growing, sharpening. "Let the rage build in you. Let it burn!"

"Ken-" Her voice cut off, suddenly silenced.

"Miss Kaoru!" Kenshin found the strength to get to his knees, blood dripping down his arm, heart clenching at the fear on Kaoru's face, the unnatural stillness of her chest. "You _bastard_..."

"I made it stronger than usual." Jin-e toyed with his katana, studying Kaoru as if she were a moderately interesting bug that had dropped into his rice. "Enough to stop her lungs."

__

No.

'No!'

"She'll last two minutes. And this won't be as easy to break as what your rooster-head met last night. Death by suffocation... so messy."

His bloody left hand closed on the sakabatou's hilt. "Jin-e..."

"She doesn't have time for your petty oaths, Battousai! If you've something to say, say it with that sword!"

__

'Kenshin-'

...Do it.

And his body wasn't his anymore.

* * *

Fury burned cold in him as Battousai blurred off the ground, blade smashing home across Jin-e's nose. _Damn, he flinched; half an inch higher, and we'd have finished this-_

His left cheek burned as if blades had cut across it; the full force of his curse sealing him to flesh and bone. He felt the blood dripping, staining red cloth a darker crimson.

__

If we survive, there will always be a scar...

Jin-e was laughing. Something about having finally seen the true Hiten Mitsurugi style. As if that were a joy and treat, rather than the presage to final death.

It didn't matter. Nothing mattered save the fact that he held this body completely, barring its true owner from controlling it by force of will and magic. A force that could so easily, too easily, burn away everything that was left of Kenshin, leaving just an empty shell for him to inhabit.

"No time for talk." His eyes burned gold. "Strike, then, so I can _kill_ you."

__

Kami, Kenshin, hang on. Hang on and fight.

Please, gods, don't let me kill you...

"Here I come, Battousai!"

Waterfall at his back, he stared at the charging assassin, coolly unimpressed. Raised his head just a little, to meet mad green with blazing amber-

And Jin-e leapt aside, ki daunted by his fury.

Battousai snapped his glance to where the assassin had landed, grimly amused. "Afraid?"

"...So this is the true Battousai," Jin-e observed. "The bloodlust is in your eyes..."

__

Idiot. You are yourself a Muramasa blade; we are _bloodlust._ "If you _do_ want to live, break the spell on Kaoru-dono."

"I can't." Teeth glinted in the night. "She must break it herself, or my will must be shattered. There is no other choice. And for a slip of a girl like her, who thinks kendo is the true way of the sword, to match the ki of a swordsman's spirit," he sneered, "That is impossible."

"Then," amber narrowed, "I will just kill you."

"That, too, is impossible..."

He waited, and watched, letting the assassin enspell himself. Aware of time ticking away while Kaoru fought for breath; just as painfully aware that Kenshin's body needed any moments he could steal to rest. His shoulder had mostly stopped bleeding, but he was so perilously tired.

Rock shattered under Jin-e's blows, brute testament to the other sword-spirit's magical strength.

__

And our strength is still so human. I can't let him close. I have _to finish this._

I have to kill him.

'No!'

Kenshin, I-

'Blood,' Kenshin whispered to him. _'On Kaoru's neck.'_

Which meant- gods! Damn Jin-e to every hell that was and would be... if he failed, Kaoru would die. If he _struck_, Kaoru was doomed to worse than death.

There had to be an answer. There had to be. If only he could _see_ it.

__

'Let me move with you!'

Let Kenshin guide _him?_ The man who'd never picked up a blade before last night, who truly did not want to kill...

__

'I trusted you. Trust me.'

He yielded, drawing back some of his magic to let Kenshin take partial control. Felt their shared body shift, dropping into-

__

Battou-jutsu stance.

Yes.

"Come," he said, a cool, clean joy rising in him. "Learn the meaning of the name, _Battousai_."

* * *

__

Iai, Kaoru thought past the pounding pain in her chest. _Let the sharp edge of the blade press against the sheath, speeding the draw; draw the sword and kill in one blow. But..._

Jin-e looked over his small foe. Considered. Smiled.

__

But Kenshin...

"Here I come, Battousai!"

__

That's a sakabatou!

Jin-e charged.

Battousai drew, steel blurring almost too fast to see. But still too slow, drifting by the assassin's throat by a paper's width-

"Victory is mine, Battousai-!"

__

Crack.

And Kaoru stared in open-mouthed awe as Jin-e fell, elbow shattered by a move she'd never seen, never even dreamed could exist.

__

He used the sword and _the sheath..._

"Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, Sou Ryuu Sen," Battousai's night-chill voice observed.

__

Double dragon strike.

"I know very well that battou-jutsu is normally a single strike, and that the sakabatou is unfit for it."

Jin-e was shuddering on the ground, katana fallen well out of reach.

"You will not have Kaoru-dono's soul. Not now, not ever." Both hands holding the hilt, he deliberately turned the blade. Raised it high. _"Die."_

Still. The night was so still.

"What's wrong, Battousai?" Smirking, Jin-e got to one knee. "Why do you hesitate?"

__

Battousai. Not Kenshin...

"You must kill me to break the spell. If you don't, she dies. If you _do_, she lives... and you'll have one bare moment to reach her, before I take her as my new host. Which you probably can't - but you can give her a cleaner death, hmm?"

__

Host? What?

Kaoru felt a sick, unnatural burn along her throat, and quailed.

"Of course," Jin-e laughed darkly, "if you kill that pesky host still lurking in your mind... then there would be nothing to hold you back from saving the girl, would there?"

__

Kenshin's... still alive?

"There's no reason to hesitate. You've no time for it. Two lives or three, Battousai! Choose!"

"Without his will I would not do this." Battousai's voice was a whisper of winter wind. "But... to save Kaoru-dono, I will become a cursed blade once again!"

Steel swung down.

__

I don't have to die here, Kaoru realized, blackness closing in. _I could live. And all it would cost me is-_

Kenshin.

"No!"

Air rushed into her lungs; sweet, wonderful air. Sweet as the arms suddenly there to catch her as she fell; there, and warm, even if they did smell of sweat and fear and blood.

"Miss Kaoru! Miss Kaoru, hold on!" One arm caught her; the other tilted her head back, looking over the burning slice on her neck. "You've got to hold on, that you do!"

"I've... got to hold on..." Easy to say. But it was like trying to hold against a whirlwind, a black, sucking void that wanted to pull her _in_ and _down._

She blinked against the darkness, looking up into-

Violet.

Wild, worried eyes, framed with drifting bangs of crimson. Touched by blood along one cheek, where an odd, cross-shaped wound was just starting to scab. But violet. Kenshin's violet.

It was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

And the darkness could not stand against it.

"You'll be all right," Kenshin's voice broke, firmed again. "That you will."

"Yes; I'm all right now." Kaoru smiled, feeling the acid burn flicker out, leaving only the ache of an open cut behind. "That I am."

"Oro?"

__

He blushes! Kaoru watched the color rise on pale cheeks, delighted. _Aw, so cute..._

The more sane part of her brain tried to point out that the - admittedly - very cute redhead holding her up was covered in blood, currently tearing apart her bonds with what looked like claws, and had just demonstrated sword skills that flat-out _demanded_ a warning label...

Kaoru firmly told that part of her mind to take a hike. She was held and warm and _safe_, and nothing else mattered.

__

Except maybe the assassin sneaking up behind us-

"Stop it, Jin-e." Kenshin's hand fell on the hilt of his sword, flecks of amber appearing in violet. "With just the wakizashi and your left arm - you've no chance, that you don't. It's over."

"No. It's not over. I haven't lost yet."

Kaoru caught herself as Kenshin let her go, getting his feet under him for one quick strike-

"I have clean-up to do."

Sneer fixed on his face, Jin-e drove the wakizashi home.

"Heart's blood... so sweet..."

Blood spread under the assassin's fallen form, almost black in the thin light. Kaoru got to her feet, clinging close to Kenshin. _He didn't know_, she realized, watching hints of amber vanish into violet horror. _He didn't think Jin-e would do this..._

"Your host's face says he doesn't understand," Jin-e whispered from the grass. "But I know you do, Battousai. If Target Alpha took me, if there was an investigation... it might lead back to the big man in the Commune who hired me to kill."

"What?" Kenshin breathed.

"Uhu-hu... you didn't _really_ think those idealistic words about 'Kin working for peace with humanity' made hitokiri unnecessary? That's not like you, Battousai...

"Everyone's so joyous about the Commune and the Elders who support it... but in the shadows of the pretty words, the struggle for power goes on. Washing blood with blood... it never ends. It never will. We're Kin. We don't talk. We _kill_."

Green eyes squinted as pain wracked him. "Don't... look at me that way, Battousai." Blood trickled from the corner of Jin-e's lips. "I liked your eyes much better... when you said you were going to _kill_ me."

Kenshin flinched.

"You think that was only Battousai? Don't lie to yourself, Himura. We have so little time left to talk..." The fallen assassin's face creased in a bloody smile. "Within every fiber of your being you are a hitokiri. Another hitokiri tells you this... it cannot be a lie. It has always been within you, lurking, chained. Until you chose to pick up a blade, and kill...

"A hitokiri is a hitokiri until death. He cannot _be_ anything else.

"Keep playing at protecting the humans, Battousai. I'll be watching you... from Hell..."

The black-clad form trembled once, and was still.

__

Gone. Kaoru swallowed a sob. Reached out, hardly knowing what she did; her enemy was gone, and here was only a shell of a man who deserved better than to have cursed steel haunting his heart-

"Miss Kaoru, no!"

Clawed fingers snatched hers from the air, drew her back. "His host is dead, but the sword still lingers," Kenshin said grimly. "You must not touch that blade until your wound heals; that you must not."

"I-" She stumbled backward into him, breathing hard. "It's a trap?"

"He knows humans forget," Kenshin nodded. "In time, he believes, some unknowing soul will pick up this blade again. And Jin-e Udo will walk this world once more."

Kaoru shuddered. "Well, break the damn thing!"

"I'm trying to think of a way to do so, that I am."

"What's there to think about? Just pick it up and-" Kaoru's eyes fell on the hand covering hers. The bloody hand. "Oh." She squared her shoulders. "Okay. You stay with the body so no one else gets caught, I'll go call... someone who can deal with this." She caught her lip between her teeth, trying to think of options besides Dr. Genzai and coming up blank. "Is there someone who can deal with this?"

"Aa." Kenshin's eyes closed a moment. "I think some of them are coming now."

* * *

"We must be getting close," Sanosuke muttered.

Thumping the last of the terrified muggers into unconsciousness, Uramura glared at him. "How can you tell?"

Sano gave him a look. Drew a line through air with his fingertips, tracing the trajectory of the last three groups of hooligans they'd mowed down, all of them running _away_. "Call it a hunch."

__

"No!"

A woman's cry, thinned by night and distance. Sano ran toward it, trusting Katsuhiro would keep Uramura's control team from trying to grab Yahiko. The kid would _not_ stay in the print shop, not with his brother out there facing a killer.

__

Not to mention the kid already knows Uramura's guys will go through civilians to get him, Sano admitted to himself. _And he didn't want to bring that down on Katsu. Kid's got guts._

As things stood, Katsuhiro had assumed his usual dour frown and come with the pair of them, pockets of his long coat jangling with talismans; ready to, as he so bluntly put it, pick Sanosuke up once he fell on his face. They'd hit the park, met Uramura and his little band of trigger-happy agents, and wasted most of fifteen minutes shouting at each other.

__

"Yes, you're dead!" "No, I'm not!" Sheesh... who the hell designed Central Park to be so big? He'd been running for what felt like hours, though he knew it could only have been minutes. Funny Uramura's people weren't racing ahead of him, bad as he felt...

__

Then again, if Battousai really has turned - they probably figure he'll cut me down first.

Please let it not be true. Please.

The sound of the waterfall grew stronger. _Hitokiri traditionally operate near rivers_, Sano recalled Battousai saying once. _For ease of escape..._

But as Sanosuke rounded the last corner between him and the white falls, he knew that pair of small, bloodied figures wasn't going anywhere.

He stopped on the edge of the clearing, giving them time to look him over; the way those two were leaning on each other, they were both worn down to bare instinct. And even on his best days, Battousai's instincts were attack first, ask questions later.

__

Sword's sheathed, Sano saw. With any other swordsman, that would have been a good sign. _Blood all over the place._ Again, with any other swordsman, he wouldn't have been worried; the shoulder wound had bled, but it didn't look serious. But if Jin-e had been able to do _that_ to Battousai...

Sounds of crackling brush reminded him time was short. A minute more, and he'd have to tell Uramura to shoot - or give a damn good argument why not. Closing his eyes, Sano reached for aura sight. _Test of fire time. Who am I looking at?_

It was like opening his eyes to moonlight.

Kaoru caught his eyes first; exhausted, but glowing bright with fierce protectiveness. The scabbing slice along her throat still bore fading traces of Jin-e's malevolence.

Kenshin shimmered in her shadow like cold fire, bright ki just starting to conceal itself under the beginning of Battousai's shields. His wound was more or less clean, but exhaustion hung around him like fog, shot through with the first pangs of inhuman thirst.

__

He needs to feed, Sano realized. _Uramura is going to flip._

But if the man before him was clearly not human, he was just as clearly not malevolent. He let the sight fade. "Kenshin?"

Violet blinked at him. "Sanosuke?" Hope and disbelief warred in his tone. "Sano..."

Sano crossed the gap between them in a few long strides, catching the small redhead as he wavered. _Damn. He's even tinier than I thought._ "It's okay, buddy. I've got you."

"Sanosuke?" Kaoru said warily. "Aren't you-"

"No, I'm _not_ dead." Sano rolled his eyes. "Looks like Jin-e did a number on himself, though."

"You know Kenshin didn't...?" Kaoru's voice trailed off.

"Not Battousai's style," Sanosuke said matter-of-factly, scooping the smaller man up like a wounded child. "'Sides, I recognize the sword that just about took my head off. And I _know_ you wouldn't have touched it."

Kenshin shoved against his arms. "I can walk!"

"The hell you can, and you know it." Battousai at full strength would have broken free with ease. Kenshin had to be running on pure nerve. "Besides, Uramura's probably not going to shoot you long as I've got you."

"I might-" Kenshin bit back the words.

__

So he knows. "No, you're not going to hurt me," Sano said easily, feeling the redhead start to lose the battle against instinct and nestle into his shoulder. "Battousai's bitten me before. It's not a big deal." Not the way Kenshin thought, anyway. How did you explain to a guy who'd just met the Kin that you actually enjoyed the bites? That they were one of the _very_ few things that had drawn Ward out of his shell of bitterness, losing self-hate for a precious minutes of peace. Trust, friendship, a warmth that said _you belong here_ - all in that prick of fangs through skin. "Though if you can hang on a few more minutes... you know how Uramura is about blood."

An incoherent mumble tickled his ear; something about Uramura, and irony, and something rather painful with blowfish spines.

__

I like you already. "Ward that thing," Sanosuke said bluntly as the first pair of Uramura's team dashed into the clearing, guns drawn. "Body and all. That's a Muramasa blade in the corpse, and if one of you guys slips and it takes you over, we're going to be hunting down Kurogasa all over again. Katsu! Keep Yahiko back. It's a mess up here." He nodded toward the path. "Miss? If you'll come with me?"

"Sagara!" Uramura strode in stiff-legged as a Chihuahua facing down a German Shepherd. "Where's that damn sword?"

"_That_ damn sword is back there," Sano said dryly, noting how Kaoru fell in behind him as he kept walking, avoiding the team leader's direct line of sight. _Smart lady._ "The guy who got tangled up with _this_ damn sword needs some help. Now." _Move. Or I walk over you._

Behind glasses, dark eyes frowned. Looked over the bloody man in Sano's arms. "Get him to the labs. We can't have a civilian walking around with that thing."

"No kidding," Sanosuke said dryly, not breaking stride. _Not that I think we've got any choice in the matter. Damn, 'Sai - how'd you talk him into it?_

__

And what the hell do we do now?

* * *

__

I won't do it!

'Kenshin.' Exasperation wore at the sword's patience as the scent of warm skin tantalized them both. He could feel the steady pulse through the shoulder cradling them, subtle, enthralling. _'This is Sano. He won't mind.'_

I don't know him!

'He knows me.'

__

I don't care! _I've never seen him before tonight, I - I just can't!_ Kenshin shivered. _And - he's hurt already, I can feel it. The last thing he needs is to lose more blood._

A silent sigh. _'All right.'_

"Stubborn as you are, huh?" Sano's wry laugh shook him. "Just a minute more. We're almost there."

"There?" Kenshin whispered, catching the scent of stables, hay, a trace of sweet grains. There was a sudden loudness and echoes that spoke of passage from outside to in. Stamping footsteps thudded to his ear, mingled with soft whickers.

"Park mounted patrol stables. I know a few people here."

If he hadn't been too tired to open his eyes, Kenshin would have rolled them. "You know a few people _everywhere_."

"Fruits of a misspent Crowley youth in the Apple. Sharing memories with 'Sai already, huh?" Sano sounded thoughtful. "Can he walk you through it, or are you going to need a little help?"

__

Horse. Big. Probably not interested in being bitten. "Anou... help?"

"You got it." Sano chuckled. "Lucky for you, I keep pockets full of sugar cubes."

He wavered on his feet as Sano set him down, tried to hold onto his equilibrium as the agent talked sweet nothings to a large, warm, simple animal ki. Felt along the smooth coat while Sano held the horse's halter, following the scent and pulse of blood. Let the building, tingling tightness in his upper jaw guide him, and gratefully bit down.

__

I have fangs?

Shock fell away, pushed aside by the slow trickle of warmth through his lips. Copper and rich and very, very good...

__

'Slowly. Slowly. Only a little at a time. Too fast, and you'll hurt him.'

Don't want to do that, Kenshin admitted. Frowned slightly at an undertone in the sword's thoughts. _You - this is practice?_

'This is feeding. Which you need, badly.' A hint of amusement touched him. _'But the way Kaoru looked at you... aa, this_ is _practice.'_

Kenshin flushed, almost pulling away from the wound. _I wouldn't!_

'You are Kin, Kenshin. Should she choose to share herself with you, you would find it very difficult not _to bite. And you are a gentle soul. I know you would not hurt her.'_

A gentle soul. Kenshin blinked back a sudden ache.

__

"Within every fiber of your being you are a hitokiri..."

'I would I could tell you he lied.' Battousai sighed. _'You may take a falcon from the wild. Raise it and its offspring from hatchlings for generations on end, never knowing the kill. Yet the ghost of the stoop still lingers; and all that is needed to wake it is one taste of blood.'_

Kenshin tried not to flinch, feeling the horse grow restless as he began to taper off. _You think someone in my family was a killer._

'Young one, I know _it. You seized me to strike, intending to kill. So that you might live.'_ Wistful appreciation. _'It does not make you evil. Only - different.'_

Then, if Yahiko had-

'I don't know.'

"You about set?" Sano's tone was matter-of-fact, but tired. "Katsu can't keep a lookout for us too much longer."

Kenshin licked the blood from his lips, accepting the napkin Sano held out to press the gelding's small wounds closed. "I think so, yes. I-" No longer swamped by thirst, awareness of his surroundings rushed back in, and he jerked his head up toward that suddenly visible ki.

Kaoru and Yahiko stood just outside the stall, watching with wide, frightened eyes.

Fist clenched on red-stained paper, Kenshin glared at Sagara. "Why?"

"No easy way to tell it," the agent said bluntly, letting horsy lips pluck snowy cubes from his hand in a crunch of sugar. "Better to take it right between the eyes. You're Kin. They've got to deal with it. _You've_ got to deal with it. Battousai's got enough enemies as it is. Spooning the shock out a drop at a time would just get you all killed." He nodded toward the flicker of Katsuhiro's coat. "Let's get out of here."

Lips pressed into a thin line, Kenshin dropped his gaze and walked out of the stall. He heard Sano locking it behind them, latch clicking loud against his younger brother's stunned silence. "Yahiko-"

A dark-haired thunderbolt hit him in the chest. Wrapped arms around him, cursing and crying. "Idiot - left your brain at the cleaners - you left me! You s-said you wouldn't leave me, you _promised_ - then you go and do something _s-stupid_..."

"_Gomen,_ Yahiko-chan," Kenshin said softly, hugging the boy to his whole shoulder. "_Gomen nasai._ It won't happen again."

"D-don't call me _chan!_" Hiccuping, Yahiko rubbed a fist against teary eyes. "Just don't go."

"I won't," Kenshin promised, walking them both out into the cooling night. Weariness was falling away from him like ashes, burned off by warm blood. He cast a glance toward the white slice of moon visible through the overcast, now sinking behind skyscrapers to the west. _Must be two, three in the morning. He's probably just exhausted..._

'He is your brother. His ki sense may be untrained, but he is not blind.'

And he'd already seen Uramura's team at work. "I won't go, Yahiko," Kenshin said firmly. "No matter what Target Alpha wants." He glanced past a frowning Kaoru to Sano. "I suppose you'll get in trouble for that."

Sanosuke shrugged. "I've been there before." He scratched awkwardly behind his head, tails of his red headband rustling against his jacket. "Look. You got somewhere to crash for the night? 'Cause frankly, you two go back to your apartment, the cops'll catch up with you, and we better get our story straight first. And my place - well - kind of isn't there anymore..."

"Funny." Katsuhiro's tone was darkly dry as he stalked out after them all. "I could have sworn Uramura told you to get him back to the lab."

"Uramura hasn't read Battousai's private file." Sano's glance rested on Kenshin's left cheek. "Bond's already set. A good night's sleep won't make any difference."

Involuntarily, Kenshin's fingers traced flaking blood, feeling the roughness of new scars. _But I thought we were bound before..._

'From the moment you let me taste your blood,' Battousai agreed. _'Yet until I have fought unrestrained, until my host allows me free rein within him, allows me to - scar him, both soul and flesh - there is still a seam between us that magic may pry at. A bond that can be broken, though to break it would leave you ever crippled. Or worse. You are not a host as Target Alpha knows them, Kenshin. I_ belong _with you, now...'_

"You can come home with me."

Startled, Kenshin glanced at Kaoru.

She reddened. "Well - you already know where all the lumps in my couch are, right? And Yahiko's my student. Some sensei I'd be if I couldn't pull out a futon for the night." She snagged his hand. "Come on, come on; I want to get _some_ sleep tonight!"

"Oro..."

* * *

__

Ryuu Sou Sen - Dragon Nest Flash.  
_Shin no Ippou_ - "One side of the soul".  
_Anou_ - Um.  
_Gomen_ - Forgive.


	5. Chapter 5

__

Ugh... what a night, Kaoru thought, blinking at late-morning sunlight as she levered herself out of bed. Pulling on jeans, she sniffed the air, catching a trace of brewing coffee. _Did I set the timer on the coffeepot? Don't remember doing that. Then again, dream I had last night, I'm surprised I remember my own head._ She yawned. _Sorcerers, sword-spirits, guys with magic and guns... man, I have to lay off on the fantasy books before bed-_

"Snerk..."

Rubbing away sleep-sand from her eyes, Kaoru glowered at the six-foot, spiky-haired agent sprawled under a purple sheet and dinosaur-patterned blanket on her futon, currently tangled around himself so he was drooling on the back of his arm. _Not a dream. Damn it._

Yahiko was currently as limply sprawled on her couch, sleeping bag pulled up almost over his mussed brown hair. The blankets she'd lent Kenshin were piled neatly at his feet.

"Kenshin," Kaoru whispered, hand clenched near her heart. The patch of living room wall he'd claimed last night was empty save for a sheathed sword, small bookcase no longer leaned against by a tired redhead. _Gone? But he promised - he_ promised _- ooo, I'm going to_ kill _him-!_

"Shhh..."

She jerked toward that soft whisper, gaze traveling up from bare feet to off-white folds of hakama, strands of red drifting over one of her oversized blue sweatshirts, and finally, bright violet eyes.

Kenshin smiled shyly, holding up a steaming black mug. "Coffee."

Thoughts of mayhem tossed aside, Kaoru headed for the beckoning pot.

"Ahhh..." She breathed deep of her half-empty mug of milk-laced ambrosia a few minutes later. Funny Kenshin had dug this one out; she'd have sworn she had the Statue of Liberty mug tucked into the back of the cup shelf. "And the curse is broken, and the beast returns to humanity."

"Hmm. So easy."

Kaoru opened her eyes in time to catch that flicker of - sadness? Regret? "Is something wrong?"

"Oh, it's nothing, Miss Kaoru. I-"

She glared.

Kenshin _eep_ed, backing up, setting his own mug near a freshly-scrubbed spot on the kitchen counter as if he suddenly needed his hands free. "It's only - well - it was a long night for all of us, that it was-"

Kaoru gave him a considering look. "I always thought Beauty got gypped."

"...What?"

"Here she is, finally somewhere someone appreciates her, talks to her, takes her seriously - and when she tells the Beast she loves him, what does she get? A prince!" Kaoru rolled her eyes. "Do you have any _idea_ what medieval princes were like? They were scum!"

"Er..."

"High-handed, aristocratic, inbred idiots," Kaoru said with great relish. "And the story says _he's_ the one who got cursed. Must've been written by a guy."

Wide-eyed, Kenshin's gaze darted toward the doorway.

__

Oh no, you don't. "Kenshin. What's wrong?"

"...I broke two of your cups this morning."

"You what?" Kaoru smacked her temper a good one. _He's really upset._ "So you dropped some of my mugs. It's not a big deal-"

Blue-clad shoulders shifted. "I didn't drop them."

__

Do not _throttle unhelpful shopkeeper-slash-swordsman. His brother would never forgive you. He might_ help, _but he wouldn't forgive you._ "Kenshin. I'm on my first cup of coffee. I'm not in any shape to do twenty questions. What happened?"

Sighing, Kenshin fished her dustbin out from under the sink. Dug past coffee-soaked paper towels to take out the cracked remnants of half a flower-painted green mug. Flexed the fingers of his left hand, and closed them on the smooth curve remaining.

Claws bit through glazed ceramic like thick mud.

"...Okay," Kaoru said after a moment's tongue-tied shock. "That... kind of explains the smell of coffee on the floor- Kenshin!" _God, he's fast!_ But he wasn't used to long hair yet, and her fingers had been just quick enough.

She walked her hand up the length of crimson strands, marveling at the soft warmth. _Tickles... whoa, that was static!_ Part of her wasn't even surprised; it felt almost like silky fur, and his form was wire-taut as a snow leopard about to leap for cover. "It's okay," Kaoru said firmly. "You didn't know. Coffee washes off. It's okay."

She could barely make out his words. "I could have hurt you."

Kaoru thumped the side of his head. "You and what army, buster!"

"But - I-"

"You broke two cups," Kaoru shrugged. "You should have seen me when I hit my awkward years. No, forget that; just wait until Yahiko puts on another inch or two - and he will, he definitely got the height in your family. Lock up the fine china, stick to cheap knockoffs, and chalk it up to experience." She rounded him until she could catch shy eyes. "Look. Look at these wrists. Do you see any scratches?"

Mute, he shook his head.

"So if you didn't hurt me last night, when you were _trying_ to tear something apart - what on earth makes you think you're going to cut me up by accident?"

"I..." Kenshin dared to lift his gaze to hers. "I did not expect to have the chance to risk it, that I did not."

For a long moment Kaoru could barely breathe, reading the frank admission in frightened violet.

__

I came to save you. I came to stop him.

I never thought there would be an "after".

A faint, wry smile tugged at Kenshin's lips. "Battousai says this is only the second time he's had to deal with this problem. He wasn't truly conscious for the first one... yet he still remembers the shock when his first bearer realized he'd survived the Bakumatsu, against all odds. And that somehow he would have to live with what he had become." Violet slid aside. "I'm frightened of what I am, Miss Kaoru."

"I know." Kaoru let crimson slip through her fingers. "I'd be more scared if you weren't."

Kenshin bowed his head in acceptance. Started to step back.

"Hold it!" _Where's a bokken when you need one, darn it?_ "I didn't say I was scared of _you!_"

He hesitated.

__

Keep talking. Fast! "I'm more worried about the guy camped out on my futon. I could've sworn he said he'd go home with that guy Katsu, but he ends up here... smooth-talking rooster-headed..."

"Sano?" Kenshin almost laughed. "He's harmless, Miss Kaoru. As long as you don't expect him to pick up the check."

Kaoru relaxed a little. "I notice he's not scared of you."

"He's been Crowley since he was eight," Kenshin said wryly. "Anyone raised on the streets by an Ishin Shishi ghost has a rather different definition of _dangerous_ from the rest of us."

Bristly brown hair wandered into the kitchen, dark eyes still heavy with sleep. "Sano was raised by a ghost? Really?"

Kaoru stifled an _eep_, noting grumpily that Kenshin hadn't so much as turned a hair at his brother's sudden appearance. _And he's the one with his back to the doorway! Not fair._

"He was," Kenshin nodded, glance silently asking permission to delve into her refrigerator for breakfast to go with the coffee. "Captain Souzou Sagara, of the First Unit of the Sekihou Army. Katsuhiro could still remember his last name when Sagara found them, but Sanosuke didn't. So when some of the Commune Elders drew up the paperwork, the captain gave him his."

"This, I have to hear," Kaoru announced, dragging out peanut butter and jelly for the bread Kenshin had found. Cooking might be an invitation to disaster, but she could make a pretty fair sandwich. "Are you telling me a _ghost_ adopted Sano?"

"He did." Kenshin slathered strawberry over wheat bread. "Battousai remembers the case very well; it was the first time he'd met another Kin from the Bakumatsu in New York." Sandwich finished, he set it on Yahiko's plate and started another. "Katsu and Sano's families were part of a group of tourists from the West Coast. Their tour bus... took a very wrong turn. Very wrong." The knife stabbed into peanut butter. "There are _things_ that live deep under the streets of New York, Yahiko. Very - horrible - things. And sometimes, those creatures come up near the surface to feed. Especially in the darkness of a bus terminal, during an unexpected blackout.

"We don't know what preyed on that bus. Captain Sagara swore he never got a good look; he just heard the shrieks, and arrived in time to chase off something shadowy from the two children. They'd been drained of life-force and memory, almost to death, but they still had the wits to run. It took him days to track them and talk them into trusting him. Weeks for him to arrange with fellow Commune members to talk with Target Alpha on neutral ground." Kenshin shrugged. "By that time, we'd already determined they had no living relatives left. The children trusted him. And... it would have been difficult, finding foster parents who would understand why they had a horror of the night. Target Alpha is not Child Services; so long as one of their agents checked to see the children were alive and reasonably sane, they saw no need to tamper with the situation." A distant smile touched his face. "Battousai arranged to take that duty whenever he could. He found it pleasant to talk with someone else who had made their own peace with that great bloodshed. Even if peace, for Sagara, came after his own execution..."

"So Battousai's known Sanosuke for years?" Kaoru snatched the next sandwich, trying to head off the shadows in violet eyes.

"As many as Sano has known of Kin," Kenshin nodded. "So you see, Miss Kaoru, Sanosuke is not, perhaps, the most unbiased of judges when it comes to a certain degree of danger; that he is not."

__

Sanosuke trusts Battousai, Kaoru translated. _Even if you think that, just maybe, he shouldn't._ She almost snorted. _Clue, Kenshin. If Sano grew up on these streets, he_ knows _who he can trust._

Yahiko was savaging his sandwich, tearing off one strip of bread after another, strawberry staining his plate red as he chewed and swallowed. "But we got the bad guys, right? So when are we going home?"

"We stopped Jin-e." Kenshin set aside the knife, started on his breakfast. "C Spot's pack will take more time to dissuade. And Sano and his fellow agents likely won't be able to track them down until this afternoon, at least. I'd prefer not to risk it, that I would not."

Out of the corner of her eye Kaoru watched him eat as she munched her own sandwich; nibbling at sweet-touched bread, one slow, careful bite after another. _He's not sure it's going to stay down._ "Are you... should you be eating that?"

"I'm not a vampire, Miss Kaoru. It's only... it tastes different." A hint of fangs flashed in his smile. "And I'm still not sure I won't bite my own tongue, that I am not."

"You mean we're going to be stuck here all _day?_" Yahiko scowled at his crust. "That sucks!"

"Yahiko. We're guests in Miss Kaoru's home," Kenshin said, soft warning in his tone.

"I know, but-" Yahiko scrunched his shoulders, looking away. "No Internet, no computer - you said I shouldn't use her phone..."

__

And you don't want to spend the day with a girl, Kaoru filled in the blanks, starting to steam. She knew this wasn't class. She knew the kid was just being a typical teen; more interested in chatting up whatever guy friends they had and daring each other into mischief than settling down and doing something useful. She knew half his petulant look was probably just a reaction to the whole wild, weird, horrifying situation; god knew she wanted to just crawl into a corner with a soft blanket and try not to think for, oh, maybe a week.

She _still_ wanted to flatten him.

__

Wait a minute... not a bad idea. "I was going to be practicing kata this morning," Kaoru said off-handedly. "And I know I've got more than one bokken."

Interest flashed in dark eyes, before the small shoulders scrunched tighter. "Kenshin _told_ me not to practice without the pads. And I think - I think they blew up with everything else..."

__

Blew up? Now some of the images Battousai had passed along yesterday made more sense. _Oh man, no wonder he's upset!_ "We don't have to hit each other, we can just practice swings... Kenshin?"

Kaoru stared at the empty space where he'd been, a curl of steam wafting up from his abandoned mug, then jerked her head toward the sound of her front door locks coming undone. Headed that way in a barefoot skid, noting that the sword was gone from the living room. _No, please, not another fight. Not here. Not now._ Swallowing back fear, she growled under her breath. "I swear, I'm going to nail that man's feet to the _floor!_"

__

"Ohayo!" Ayame's voice chirped from the hall.

__

"Ohayo, Akage-san!" Suzumi chimed in.

"Mr. Redhead?" Kenshin was crouched eye to eye with the little girls, looking at them with shy wonder. "Does your grandfather know you're out here, Ayame-chan?"

"Well, he certainly does _now_." Dr. Genzai rubbed sleep out of his eyes as he marched into sight, giving both little girls stern looks. "What have I told you about letting Kaoru sleep in one of these days, young ladies..." He stopped, voice colorless. "Battousai."

"Kenshin," the redhead said firmly.

Genzai's arms circled his granddaughters, hands poised and ready to gesture. "Are you quite sure, young man?"

__

"Hai." Kenshin inclined his head. "I am Kenshin Himura." His voice dropped. "Though Battousai is here as well." He stood, gazing down at the girls as if he'd caught a glimpse of rainbow in fountain spray. "They're so _bright_."

"So I've been told." The doctor relaxed, letting his granddaughters pounce on a too-slow Yahiko.

"Aaugh!"

"I can't see it myself," Genzai went on, stepping up to the doorway. "But those who can say the ki of a child is like young sunshine. It isn't as strong as that of a trained fighter, but it also usually isn't as carefully hidden." He glanced at Kaoru. "And we should talk about this behind closed doors. May I come in?"

Trying not to giggle as Yahiko fought off his pint-sized opponents, Kaoru waved him in. _A sorcerer. My family doctor, a man I've trusted for_ years, _is Kin._

__

But... he's still Dr. Genzai.

Dr. Genzai who was eyeing her occupied futon with worried amusement. Sanosuke was still snoring away, gray crystal glinting on his neck, oblivious to the three-way tussle rolling near his feet as Yahiko tried to disentangle Ayame's Slinky from his fingers and Suzumi's hair-ribbons. "You had a sleepover, Kaoru?"

"Sanosuke's a friend. Or so _somebody_ tells me." Kaoru crossed her arms, daring Kenshin to make any more of it.

"It is a long story," Kenshin started.

"Kurogasa grabbed me, Kenshin and Battousai saved me," Kaoru said simply. "Sanosuke helped us get out of there before the cops showed up."

"Not that long, then." But behind the cheer, Genzai blanched. "Kurogasa? The assassin? Dear gods. Is he-?"

"Dead." The redhead's voice was suddenly cool. Almost inhuman. "For now."

Kaoru stared at eyes like molten gold. On the floor, she heard the tussle fall suddenly silent. "You," she whispered.

"Kamiya-sensei." Battousai inclined his head, tail of hair flowing behind him like bloody rain. "Kenshin showed me you were well, but it is good to see it."

Yahiko hurtled up off the floor. "What'd you do to my _brother_, you-"

"Yahiko." Battousai caught the boy easily, points of claws just pressing on the cloth of yellow sleeves. "He's only aside for a moment. So that I may speak with Genzai-isha." The sword-spirit measured the sorcerer with his gaze. "That is what you wished, is it not? To judge for yourself how much of Himura I had taken? To see if there might be some way you might break what binds us, and leave him human once more?" A minuscule shake of head. "You know there is not."

"You'll forgive me if I was hoping I was wrong." The doctor swallowed dryly. "If I may be blunt... I was under the impression your kind always destroyed the host."

Amber never wavered. "Most do."

"But you don't," Kaoru said forcefully.

"_Do not_ is not _cannot_, Kamiya-sensei. It was a risk Kenshin was willing to take." Battousai watched her, face expressionless, waiting. "Was. And is."

She shivered. "Is...?"

"The risk lessens with time. As we become more accustomed to each other. The more he learns my soul, as I do his, the less we can harm one another." One hand let go of Yahiko, moved to rest in mussed hair. "Yahiko-chan. I will be careful with your brother. He suits me well."

"_Suits_ you?" Yahiko glared up at the spirit. "He's not a damn pair of sneakers!"

"No. He is my sword. As I am his." Chill amusement glowed in amber. "And Yahiko... he can hear you perfectly well."

The spirit looked up. "Genzai-isha. I cannot stay long. But if I might ask..." He inclined red hair toward the futon. "Sanosuke usually sleeps soundly, but not _this_ soundly."

"You're worried about him!" Kaoru blurted out.

Battousai's gaze was unreadable. "He is my friend."

Genzai slipped the silver chain off over Sano's wild hair. Watched his patient carefully, frowning as the man barely tossed in his sleep. Murmured a silent chant as his fingers traced patterns in air.

Pale blue traced the path of his fingers, called an answering white gleam from the bandages on Sanosuke's right hand. "Hmm." Genzai unwrapped the bandages enough to see the two healing cuts; one at the base of Sano's forefinger, another, longer, across the back of his hand. "Ah."

"He's out because of those?" Yahiko said skeptically.

Gray brows lifted. "Two cuts from a Muramasa blade, young man? He's lucky to be alive."

"Two blades," Battousai said quietly. "The older mark was mine." His hands rested by his sides, as if will alone kept them from becoming fists. "But I cannot feel it now."

"That would explain the aural damage." The doctor dusted off his hands and replaced the crystal necklace. "Exhaustion," he pronounced. "Let him sleep it off. If he's still not up by this afternoon, let me know, and I'll check on him again. But I believe he'll be fine. He's a very resilient young man."

__

"Arigatou." Gold blinked away.

__

Amber, blue... violet. Kaoru breathed a sigh of relief. _Okay._

"That's... unsettling, that it is," Kenshin said dazedly.

"I imagine it would be. Let me see that, if you would..." Moving slowly, Genzai traced his fingers over the cross-shaped scar. "Hmm." Traced the long slash again, and sighed. "I'm afraid he wasn't lying, Kenshin. A mark like this-"

"I know." Kenshin glanced at the children. "Did I frighten you?"

Ayame shook her head, though Suzumi was peeking from behind her hands. "Ghosts are okay."

"They are, huh?" Kaoru whistled softly. "Something tells me we're all going to be having some long talks about ghosts. And other things."

"Planning to stay in the family, then?" Genzai weighed her and then Yahiko in his gaze. "It is possible to forget, you know. To go back to an ordinary New York, filled with ordinary people..."

Yahiko clung to Kenshin. "No!"

Matching alarm flashed in Kenshin's eyes, and his arm circled the boy's shoulders. "Doctor. I know you mean well, that I do. But..." he swallowed dryly. "We're all we have."

"Then be careful," Genzai said matter-of-factly. "He's a lot more fragile than you are, and anyone you cross won't hesitate to use that against you. Kin _or_ human; I wouldn't trust some of the local Witches as far as my granddaughters could throw them. You need to take precautions. All of you do," he added, turning a sober glance on Kaoru. "This building's fairly well warded against attacks, but once they go home-"

"Is the apartment next door still open?" Kaoru asked abruptly.

"I believe so, but - are you really interested in moving this soon?" Genzai turned back to Kenshin. "It's probably wise to move eventually, but you could take some time to adjust. Your neighbors will chalk the changes up to hair dye and a dip into the Goth scene; at least for a few weeks."

"Our _neighbors_ will probably turn us in to the cops the second we show up," Yahiko said sourly. "One little explosion, and they're all freaked."

"One explosion, one fire, and a few temporarily dead bodies," Kenshin amended. "They've reason to be alarmed. But he is right, Doctor. We're not safe at home now. If you say this building is protected, and it would not add to your risks to have us as neighbors..." Violet sought her gaze. Worried. Wondering. Hoping.

Kaoru smiled. "Stay."

* * *

__

This is so cool! Yahiko exulted, skipping down the sidewalk to _Wonderful Things_. His brother was a quiet, reassuring presence behind him, the very silence of his tread making an ordinary New York street new and interesting. He didn't even regret leaving that neat radio Kenshin had picked up behind with Sanosuke.

Well, not much.

__

Magic's real, and monsters are real, and anybody might be one. Yahiko watched his fellow pedestrians as they strolled or scurried by, trying to see something, anything, that might mark out the Kin from the rest of the Herd. _Got to get Sanosuke to tell me what to look for before he takes off... wait a minute. Sano's Battousai's friend, right? And Battousai's stuck with Kenshin._

Which... kind of gave Yahiko the creeps, when he thought about it too much. A sword that could take over his brother's body; even though Battousai seemed to stay in the background most of the time, he'd seen _someone else_ look out of his brother's eyes. Freaky. Like way too many horror movies rolled into one.

__

Only in the movies, the bad guy never lets go once he's got you, Yahiko thought. _Or if he does, it's only 'cause he's trying to be charming, so you never see the whole evil plan until it's too late..._

Battousai might be a lot of things, but _charming_ hadn't made the list. The sword-spirit was cool, calm, and matter-of-fact as a police diver looking for bodies in the Hudson.

__

Scary, the young teen thought, running his fingers over the smooth blue paint of a postal mailbox as they passed it. _But a weird kind of scary. Not like the zoo, where you know the only thing between you and the leopards is the cage. It didn't feel like he was going to hurt me. It didn't feel like he'd_ ever _hurt me._

Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd felt bizarrely safe in the spirit's clawed grip. Like standing under a dragon's wing.

__

Could be your imagination, Yahiko reminded himself.

Still. Battousai did seem to care about Sanosuke.

__

Which means Sano's going to be around. A lot. Cool! Yahiko skidded to a stop as dark hooves clopped around the corner. _Whoa! Cop!_

"Good morning!" his brother said cheerily.

A gloved hand waved back as the mounted patrolman worked his way down the street, buckskin mare pricking her ears toward the friendly greeting.

Yahiko looked at the retreating form of the officer. Looked at his brother. "Um... aren't swords illegal?"

"In New York? Yes." Mischief glimmered in Kenshin's smile. "He didn't see it."

Yahiko eyed the very visible black lacquer sheath. But then, nobody seemed to give Kenshin a second glance either. At least not since yesterday. "How come?"

"Battousai didn't want to be seen."

Yahiko fell in beside his brother as they walked to the shop door. "You mean you can be invisible? Like a ninja?"

"Unnoticed. Not invisible. There's quite a difference." Key in the lock, Kenshin hesitated. Braced himself, and twisted it open. "Let's see how much damage Uramura's team did."

* * *

__

'If you want to avoid the cops, this might not be the best place to be.'

I know, Kenshin acknowledged, ringing up a browser's purchase of a Chinese dragon plate and two Art Deco-style lamps. His eyes skipped past the customer as she fluttered out the door, drawn back to the gap in his displays where a glass case had been like a tongue to a sore tooth. They'd spent half an hour this morning just sweeping up glass; for some unknown reason, possibly a hatred of Goths, Uramura's man had used some replica Egyptian footstools to smash up their display of jet mourning jewelry. Yahiko was currently in the back with wood glue and a mad glitter in his eyes, trying to see if there was any way to fix the footstools. The case itself was a dead loss. _But... this is my family's place. I have to look after it._

I have to do something that's me.

__

'I understand.' Curiosity touched him. _'I've never been bound to a shopkeeper before.'_

Not very exciting, Kenshin admitted.

__

'But you know the history of it all. It's interesting.'

I try. Checking to be sure a pair of giggling teens were still in plain view, Kenshin bent his attention back to a bent earring he'd rescued from the wreckage. Some of the pieces had been whole enough to shuffle hastily into one of his other cases; others had been ground underfoot and would need a dedicated jeweler to salvage. But a few, like this one, were borderline; post bent aside, or dangling fringe missing a few beads. Something he might be able to fix.

Kenshin picked up the jewelry pliers again, attempting to grip and straighten bent silver, and tried not to swear as his claws nicked his own fingers.

__

'You're thinking too hard,' Battousai advised. _'Your body interprets tension as a warning of threat, so it prepares for a fight. If you want to retract your claws,_ relax.'

Relax. Sure. After nearly getting eaten, blown up, and almost killed half a dozen other ways. Why not relax? After all, it wasn't as if anything _important_ had happened last night.

__

"A hitokiri is a hitokiri until death..."

'...Oh.' A soft sigh. _'I wondered when that blow would strike.'_ Understanding wrapped him, silky as sun-warmed scales. _'It's all right. I'm here. I will not leave you to face this alone. You have the strength to be what you are, I swear it.'_

__

I don't want to! Kenshin's fists squeezed closed, points pricking at his palms. _No one - no one should be able to_ choose _to reach out and kill-_

'"Should" matters not. You can. You will.'

Kenshin tried to tighten his grip. Wanting to draw blood. Wanting the pain. _I won't!_

Battousai held his fingers steady, claws just pressing against skin. _'And if Kaoru is in danger? Yahiko? If you cannot dissuade their foe, cannot find a tactic that will allow you to strike to disable? If the only choice is their life, or another's?'_

I-

'You. Will. Kill.'

Because of you! Kenshin hurled at the spirit.

A flash of anger, as swiftly restrained. _'I just make it easier.'_

"Mr. Himura?" Laying a slim book of Victorian fashions on the counter, one of the androgynous teens brushed dark curls out of wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," Kenshin said, tears still burning down his face. "There was - a death in my family." _Mine._

__

'Yes,' Battousai admitted softly. _'The Kenshin Himura you believed you were died on Tani's penthouse floor.'_ Compassion hugged him. _'He died fighting for_ your _life. Will you not honor such a sacrifice?'_

Kenshin blinked. _I... don't know if I can..._

'I believe in you.'

Fight for my life, Kenshin thought. _Just because... no one's trying to_ kill _me... doesn't mean the fight's over._

And the first battle starts right here.

Straightening his shoulders, he moved to scan the tag. "Will that be cash or charge?"

* * *

"I'm going to have that rooster-head of hair nailed to my office door," Uramura growled, listening over his headset radio to the rhythm of his team getting into position around _Wonderful Things_ one more time. "Damn it!" He cut off his words; clogging up the comm was unprofessional, what you'd expect from a gutter rat like Sagara, not the traditional, trained FBI agent seconded to Target Alpha from the academy. But the thoughts behind the curses wouldn't stop. _Risking your career, risking civilian lives - and for what, Sagara? An ENO? It's not even an undead! Just a hunk of metal with delusions of grandeur._

A hunk of metal that those in charge of Triborough felt strongly enough about to call in favors with the head office. They must have; after all, why else would his superiors bluntly order him to "escort Battousai in of his own free will if at all possible"?

__

Damn them.

But he had his orders. "Levinson, with me." If anyone deserved a shot at taking in Battousai the hard way, Agent Rachel Levinson did. Getting stabbed with your own tranquilizers was a nightmare. "The rest of you, cover us."

Metal chimed as they walked in the front door; wind chimes, instead of the bell most establishments on this strip of shops would have on the entrance. Uramura let his gaze sweep the racks of antiques, fake antiques, and various craft supplies, face professionally expressionless. But he couldn't keep his eyes from narrowing at the sight of a particular box of cream-white, handmade paper. Sheets like that still flashed through his nightmares, decked with formal black ink and sealing blood; Deeds that had bound Kgorek demons to various malign tasks for the sorcerers of Black Solstice, before loosing the man-eaters on innocent humans. _God. Hard to believe a human ran this place. It reeks of Kin._

"Somehow I doubt you're here to browse, that I do."

Levinson flinched; Uramura held his ground, though he felt a muscle in his jaw jump. _Damn ENO can make you look_ past _him, somehow..._

He focused on the blaze of red hair, feeling his gut knot at the sight. Himura's DMV photo plainly had _dark_ hair. If the Muramasa blade had gotten that much of a hold on its unwilling host already-

And Himura stepped out from behind the counter with too-familiar grace, violet eyes regarding them both with eerie calm. "If you do wish to continue where you left off yesterday, Agents, I would ask that we take this outside. Your co-worker did more than enough damage here already, that he did."

Uramura hid a grimace, eyes drawn to the smaller man's left cheek. _Kin don't usually scar. Kurogasa must have gotten in some fierce hits._ "I can't blame Agent Green for smashing up what looked like a set of enchanted Deathbeads," he said bluntly.

Was that amber, flickering in violet? "They were not," Himura said simply.

"Sure. Tell us another one. Hand-carved jet, custom-strung, all the old-fashioned way? Even if they weren't, it'd only take a little black magic, and they _could_ have been." Levinson waved her hand at the racks and cases. "You have no idea what most of this stuff can do in the wrong hands-"

"I know," Himura broke in, "that anything may be misused. And that most of those who come here are of humankind; good, or evil, or simply trying to live as best they can."

"We're not here to debate the merits of shutting this place down." Uramura held out his hand. "The sword, Himura."

Red hair shook slightly. "He does not wish to go with you, that he doesn't."

"Don't be stupid, Mister," Levinson said severely. "You have no clue what that thing can do to you."

Himura spread a hand, palm up. Afternoon sun glinted off white points of claws. "Your pardon, Agent, but I believe I know more of what Battousai can do than you could possibly imagine."

__

God, no. Uramura looked at the man, finally seeing past the small frame so different from Ward's to the unmistakable similarities. The claws, the moves, the subtle hint of fangs... _We're too late._

Damn _Sagara!_

The control team leader set aside his emotions, coldly reviewing the situation. Based on the available evidence, they had obviously run out of time to allow Target Alpha's curse-breaking methods to leave the civilian in one piece. But not to deal with the cursed hunk of steel that had crippled him. "Mr. Himura. It would be in everyone's best interests if you came along quietly-"

Something small and humanoid darted out of the back room. "You leave my brother _alone!_"

"Yahiko, _iie!_" Red blurred out of Uramura's view, snatching up the young teen before the agents could draw and aim. "They are armed!"

Mussed brown hair fought the clawed grip. "I don't _care!_"

Uramura jerked up a hand toward Levinson. _Hold your fire!_ Damn it all, now they had a hostage situation on top of everything else. At least it was one hostage situation they could treat as such, with proper New York patience, rather than being forced into Los Angeles-type SWAT heroics. Unlike most Kin, Battousai wasn't contagious.

"_I_ care, young one. _Calm_."

"Sir?" Levinson whispered, wide-eyed.

Uramura clenched his teeth, shivering. To hear a voice go from quiet, human politeness to that effortless chill...

"Calm," Himura repeated gently, gaze fading back to violet as he hugged the boy close. "Yahiko. I've told you I will not leave, that I won't." His glance met Uramura's, glinting steel-blue. "Two nights ago I would have left your world behind me, and gladly. But now... I will not give up what is still mine. I'll tell you once. _Get out._"

Uramura swallowed, subtly clicking the key on his radio to signal the team to move in. "You know we can't do that."

"Actually, you can," a familiar aggravating voice reported over his radio.

"Sagara?" Uramura snarled. "How did you get on this frequency?"

"Tell Rachel she needs to remember where she loses her equipment," the field agent said flippantly. "And your orders are to bring Battousai in, right? So what's the difference if you sit there glaring at him over your guns for a few hours, or if you say you're sorry, back off, and let him walk in when _he's_ ready?"

__

Say we're sorry? "You're out of your mind."

The humor dropped out of Sagara's tone. "Okay, let me fill you in. The difference is, either you back off in one piece, or Battousai makes you back off in a bloody pile of pieces."

Uramura pressed his lips into a thin line. One sword, even an ENO sword, against a whole control team? "You've got to be joking."

"Did you get a good look at the kid with him? Unless you count a few third or fourth cousins out Seattle way, Kenshin doesn't have any other family. You're a bright guy, Uramura. What do _you_ think Himura would be willing to do to get you to back the hell off?"

__

We're not the bad guys here. "Sagara-"

Himura held up a hand; _quiet_. Cocked his head, eyes half-closed to listen.

Yahiko looked up at his brother. "Kenshin?"

"Something's out there." Himura frowned. "Something cold."

"Cold?" Uramura asked, easing his stance slightly. Battousai might be a cursed blade, but its hosts' ability to detect other Kin had been whispered about in the agency for decades.

"There, but not there. Like holes in the weave of the world, wrapping around the ki of life to fade it away..." Violet snapped open. "Virus!"

A chill skittered down Uramura's spine. "All eyes, look sharp," he ordered. "We have Virus, I say again, _Virus_ suspected in the area. Sound off!"

"Stutler, here-"

"Nez, clear south-"

"Johnson, no sign east. You sure, sir?"

Uramura kept listening. "Debrowski, come in."

Silence.

"Damn it, Louie, answer me!"

"Sir!" Rachel's gun sagged, pointing at empty air.

The Himuras were gone.

* * *

"Stay back," Kenshin whispered as they neared the half-open back door to Zip Electronics, following that chill of nothingness where the ki of their near neighbor should have been. Marks in the trash spoke of a burly man's heels dragging the ground; fear hung about the small computer shop like darting mosquitoes. "Stay _behind_ me. Do _not_ let them touch you." _Kami, what am I saying; what am I_ doing? _I should be getting Yahiko out of here. Yes, one of Uramura's people is in trouble - but they're agents! They know the risks-_

Just as he did. What Virus was. What it could do. One creature that hated all life, human and Kin alike. One entity in multiple bodies, all of which were so armored only explosives or enchanted weapons had a chance at taking it down.

Oh yes. Uramura's people knew. And they'd go after it anyway. It was their job.

The moment they'd slipped out from under Uramura's eye, he'd sensed the trail. Turned toward it, like iron to a magnet. Taken one step. And another.

__

Crazy, this is crazy, I'm not - I don't want to-

But part of him did. That odd, alloyed part of his soul was remembering they hadn't seen Pidge, Zip's quiet, gawky owner, in nearly a week, and adding that to the chill of Virus from that store, and snarling...

__

I have to protect Yahiko!

And something snapped, old instinct meshing with new like interwoven fingers, and there suddenly wasn't a fight at all.

Virus was here. In his territory. And Yahiko would not be safe while it lived.

"Oh, come on. It can't be worse than werewolves." Yahiko faltered at his narrowed eyes. "Can it?"

"Much worse," Kenshin said softly, echoing the cold fury washing through him from Battousai; visions of screams, computerized gates mincing innocents apart, death in gleaming, twisted metal. "A werewolf kills. These creatures obliterate." _Too much. It's too much. Stop!_

The flood of memories slowed, but did not cease. _'I can't.'_

They were human once. I won't hate them!

'They were _human. Now they are an enemy to everything that lives.'_ Battousai's touch was roughly gentle. _'I don't hate them, Kenshin-'_

Chill within those walls. So chill it burned, like gripping razor-edged steel in a blizzard. A darkness in the energies of New York, a perversion of everything that was or would be. The wrongness cried out to him, as if the city itself screamed rape.

__

'-I kill them.'

The door crashed open, a shape of wire-shot flesh and metal striking for his throat. He drew and slashed through it in one smooth motion, leaping through the doorway as steely claws spasmed and fell.

__

'Their hearing's not that good! How did they-'

Pidge's shop - hidden cameras-

'You couldn't have remembered this before?'

Kenshin let the anger slide away as he dodged and struck, sinking into _now_. Virus... Virus was harder to read than Kin. No hate, no fear, not even irritation; just a black, gaping hunger for bio-electricity, thirsting to sink its circuits into not-self and twist them into self.

__

Like fighting half-blind.

Printout slid underfoot, throwing him off; Kenshin curled on himself and flipped up, landing on top of gray free-standing shelves as wire-wreathed metal hands smashed through where he'd been a breath before. The Virus pulled back to strike again, a printer shattering off its steel nails, bleeding black toner. _Fast!_

'Not fast enough.'

Grim glee mixing with adrenaline, Kenshin took a second to scan the open room. Front windows that should have let in afternoon sun were shuttered and barred with steel. From the settled dust, they'd been that way for days; he sensed the indistinct energies of passersby walking out there, no longer wondering when the shop might open again, oblivious to the menace hidden behind the security gate. Four Virus circled in the humming light of fluorescent tubes, ignoring the halves of their counterpart sparking by the back door. That one was down, but he wouldn't get as easy a shot at the rest. They weren't new victims, but fully developed Virus; bald humanoids of glinting metal, wires snaking from where a mouth should have been to wreathe neck and shoulders. Four creatures that had once been human or Kin, all trace of vulnerable flesh absorbed into glistening metal and wires...

__

No. Five.

What had been Pidge crouched in a corner by a shattered laptop display, still-human face blank as a department store mannequin's, circuits plunging from under its nails into the jerking form of a Kevlar-vested agent. Debrowski was gasping for air, brown eyes dull and glassy, ki so faint it barely registered.

__

Feeding? Or infecting?

Either way, it hardly mattered; Debrowski was running out of time.

Static hisses itched at his ears; Virus saw him, _knew_ what was hurting it. Three lunged for him. He leapt, twisted, bounced off the white-tiled ceiling to bring the sharp edge through a metal skull and down-

The last went for a computer. With attached speakers.

__

'K'so!'

And he knew what was coming, he knew - but there were two on him, whipping wires and metal points of nails in a perfectly synchronized flurry of blows that kept him blocking and dodging even as he heard the clatter of keys that was Virus activating the sound system.

The ultrasonic shriek cut his hearing like a knife.

Wire snaked around him as Kenshin faltered, stabbing through his sweatshirt into skin. Weakness swept him; the Virus, draining his own life-force to feed. _No!_

Battousai seized hold, forcing him through the pain. _'We will not die here!'_

"Dou Ryuu Sen!"

Carpet shredded under his ground-level slash; loose circuit boards and bits of computer casing smashed into both his opponents, driving them back. But the true respite was the shockwave of air, damping the speaker's whistle for one brief heartbeat.

__

"Ryuu Kan Sen!"

What served it for a spine slashed through, his captor fell.

Tearing loose of the wires, Kenshin lunged toward its partner; not sure what he was doing, only that he had to strike, even through vision gone fuzzy and gray. But his body remembered if his mind didn't; the same rapid-strike that had tangled Jin-e swept out, blunt edge smashing metal tendons into uselessness before the sharp side took its head.

Two down. But the noise, the killing, electronic shriek-

And there was gunfire, horridly loud gunfire, blasting through speakers and computers and Virus alike.

__

Ow. Ow. Ow... Panting, Kenshin stood very still, unwilling to move into potential lines of fire. "Over there - Debrowski-"

One single shot rang out.

Covered by his people, Uramura moved in on the bloody mess that had been Pidge. Eyed the red-smeared wires poking out of the gaping hole his razor-top bullet had put in its still-bony skull.

And put two more through the chest to be sure.

"Medical. Now." Uramura checked his watch. "Keep breathing, Debrowski. We've only been out of contact ten minutes. Not enough time for the damn thing to infect." Behind glasses, dark eyes narrowed. "You hear me, Louie? You are _not_ checking out on us!"

"Uramura. There's a basement. I don't know how deep." Kenshin half-closed his eyes, fighting the room's desire to spin. "I don't... feel any others... but be careful."

Uramura took his eyes off Debrowski just long enough to give him a considering look. The revulsion in his ki was fading, mingling with caution, and flickers of odd, wary respect.

__

He thinks - he feels - gods, I don't want to deal with this. Flicking stray circuit-dust off his blade, Kenshin sheathed his sword and wobbled out past incoming agents. The ache in his ears was fading, but the ground still didn't want to stay put.

__

'You'll heal,' Battousai reassured him. _'Just try not to fight for a night or so.'_

Kenshin shot the blade raw annoyance, woven through with trembling as adrenaline drained away, leaving him aware of every throbbing wire-puncture. _I wasn't_ trying _this time!_

Amusement tickled him. _'I'm sure you believe that.'_

Unable to find a good retort, Kenshin reached out with his senses, seeking for the familiar brightness of Yahiko's ki. _Please, please tell me he listened, for once._

Well, he wasn't in a _Kin's_ line of fire. Though by the way Yahiko and Levinson were squared off eye to glaring eye, she wanted nothing less than to drop-kick the stubborn teenager straight into mid-town traffic. "Is this yours?" she growled.

"Hey!"

"Most of the time," Kenshin admitted.

__

"Hey!"

"You're lucky he's got good ears," she said grudgingly. "I can hear a little above average range, but it takes more than that to realize the bad guys are using ultrasonics." The agent gave him a probing look. "That must have hurt like hell."

__

"Hai," Kenshin said raggedly, rubbing his forehead as Yahiko scowled and slipped past him to the doorway. "Yahiko! Don't-"

Too late; he felt the spike of revulsion, heard Yahiko stifle a whimper. His brother turned straight around, face drained white. Headed for the alley wall, standing by a pile of half-crumpled bags of electronic trash. Shook, fists clenched.

And proceeded to toss every last bit of his lunch.

"I'm sorry." Kenshin held shaking shoulders, waiting out the sickness, the meaningless whimpers. "Yahiko, I'm sorry..."

"First body, kid?" Rachel said roughly.

"Pidge was a neighbor here," Kenshin informed her, eyes not leaving his brother. "Renfield Paige Orsson, and don't ask me what his parents had against him... he went by Pidge. Sometimes he would come by for a break. If he wasn't tied up in systems debugging. We haven't seen him since last Tuesday. But that isn't - wasn't - unusual..."

"Damn." The agent shook her head, holstering her gun. "Kid. Yahiko, right? Look at me. Look at me," she insisted when the teen ducked his head. "If he's been gone for a week he's probably been Virus for a week, and there's nothing you could have done about it. This is _not_ your fault."

"But-" Scrubbing his mouth with his sleeve, Yahiko stared at his brother with wide eyes.

"I wouldn't have been able to tell until last night," Kenshin said honestly. "Not for certain. And if we had visited, if it had thought we... suspected something... it would have killed us too."

"If you were lucky," Rachel said bluntly.

"You know, I doubt luck would have anything to do with it," Sanosuke's voice broke into the chilling silence. The man himself sauntered into view, brown eyes still smudged with exhaustion and a slim, twilight-blue wrapped bundle under his arm. "These two are a lot tougher than they look." He grinned tiredly at Kenshin. "We've got to stop meeting like this. People are going to talk."

Kenshin raised a skeptical brow.

"Sheesh, tough crowd..." Sano stepped out of the way as two armed agents dashed by with a medical kit and a stretcher. Dangled the miniature radio. "Missing something?"

Levinson snagged it, growling under her breath. "How long have you been here?"

"Caught the edge of the shots," Sano said soberly. "The little miss keeping an eye on me wouldn't tell me where the hell these two went until after I ate something." He shuddered. "Kenshin? Word of warning. _Never_ let that woman near a peanut butter jar and chili sauce at the same time."

Yahiko's pallor turned distinctly green.

"Anyway, once I knew you were going to be stubborn, I figured you might need this. So I stopped by my car." Sano shook his head. "I should've come straight here. You're _not_ Ward; you don't plan things into oblivion before you move." He whistled softly. "Never would have thought Battousai'd pick somebody with a temper."

Kenshin reddened. "I'm a very calm person, that I am."

"Oh yeah," Yahiko muttered. "Way calm." He gave his brother an arch look. "So what are you going to do when Kaoru asks for her sweatshirt back?"

"Anou..." Kenshin glanced down at his chest and arms, taking in the long rips, dots of blood, and indelible gray stains of Virus fluids. "Sano? Be a true friend, and kill me now?"

"You don't get off that easy." Grinning, Sanosuke unwrapped blue cloth from a pair of sheaths; one long, one short. "Here. This should let you walk around in public without tweaking the cops' nerves."

__

'My old haori.' Battousai reached out for the raw silk jacket. _'It's been decades since I've been able to...'_ Clawed fingers brushing silk, he hesitated. _'But... if you do not wish to...'_

Distracting eyes from a blade they don't expect to see is one thing. Forcing cops to ignore blood - we can't afford to spend that much energy right now, can we? Kenshin picked up the jacket, swirling it over his shoulders in a motion new and familiar. He settled the long sleeves over his hands, pushing away the ghostly images of leather arm-guards Battousai's memories insisted should be there. _I may not find it - comfortable, to be dressed as you. But I'm not going to be stupidly stubborn._

"I'll be damned. It fits." Sano looked behind them, where Kenshin could feel the approaching roil of determination and anger that was Uramura. "Okay. I know this is going to be the hard part. Yahiko? Mind holding these for us? Careful, they're heavier than they look."

Yahiko's grunt agreed with that. "Daisho?" he asked, looking over the plain, braided hilts. "They feel kinda weird."

"Long and short, and yeah, they've got a couple spells worked into them." Sanosuke agreed. "Nothing like a true Muramasa, but good for street work." He met Kenshin's gaze, unflinching. "I need to take custody of Battousai."

__

Give him up? Never! Kenshin wet his lips, shaken by the intensity of that reaction. "I-"

The laden stretcher gave him a moment to breathe, stepping back to give Debrowski's paramedics room to get the agent out. He noted the oxygen mask over the dazed man's mouth and nose, frowned at the fluids dripping into the agent's arm.

__

'Plasma and antivirals,' Battousai identified the translucent fluids as the paramedic agents dashed out of view. _'It wouldn't be enough to stop a full infection, but the Virus didn't have him nearly long enough for that. They're just being careful.'_

"It doesn't have to be easy," Sano went on as a van rumbled into life, carrying Debrowski away. "But we've got to get this mess straightened out. You know that." _And we have to do it here_, his frank gaze said. _Where Uramura can see._

"I know," Kenshin said quietly. Deliberately unclenched his fingers from his sleeves, and drew the saya from his obi.

Sano took the sheathed blade with a sigh of relief. "You okay?"

"No." He felt disjointed, off-balance; as if part of him were still here, and another gripped in hands that were and weren't familiar.

__

I'm unarmed. I'm outside household walls, and I'm unarmed.

It felt terribly, desperately _wrong_.

__

Breathe. Just breathe. Kenshin flexed his fingers, claws aching to reach out and tear. _Three days ago, you wouldn't have cared._

'Three days ago, you believed you were safe,' Battousai echoed his unease. _'I recognize those blades, if you do not.'_

Part of the panic flowed away, replaced by gnawing unease. _Sano knows you pretty well, doesn't he._ Kenshin stood still, not trusting himself to move; the fear and nausea of dealing with the Virus was fading, burned away by sudden anger.

__

He brought you swords. _He thinks I'll let you take them. He thinks I_ am _you, where it matters; that I'll just fit into that space Ward left empty, join Target Alpha, and life will go on-_

'Then we must show him otherwise.'

Kenshin blinked. _You're not upset?_

'I think you wrong him. Sano is not so careless of others' hearts. Yet...' Reluctance. _'You may be right, as well. I have been held by Target Alpha so long. They will assume... many things.'_ A soft touch. _'But take the blades, Kenshin. For Yahiko's sake.'_

Kenshin nodded slightly, lifting the paired swords from Yahiko's surprised hands. "So where are we going?"

Sano crossed his arms. "Central Park West."

* * *

__

Dou Ryuu Sen - Ground Dragon Flash._  
Ryuu Kan Sen_ - Dragon Wrap Sword.


	6. Chapter 6

Flipping through _The Science of Middle Earth_ with a notepad and pen in one hand, Harvey Falconi glanced at the chubby Italian huddled in one of his library armchairs. "You look like you could use something a lot stronger than coffee, Pete."

Petrio DuBuccio, Deputy Director of Target Alpha New York, scowled into his mug, thinking of the agent, two civilians, and one uneasy ally currently sitting in the Falconis' magical workroom. "We've got Kurogasa's damn sword under ward, lock, and key. Based on what we've vacuumed out of Tani's paperwork we've got a lead or two on who might have hired him. We also shook out enough evidence to bury _Tani-dono_ so deep with the NYPD it'll keep his lawyers out of trouble for years, and so deep with Golgotha that this so-called _Commune_ sorcerer's not going to even _breathe_ wrong for at least six months, much less sacrifice anybody. You tell _me_ why I'm not happy, eh?"

Harvey scribbled down a note; probably on optics as applied to elf vision, the magical researcher had been muttering something about developing a new Far-Sight spell. "You miss Ward already, huh?"

"Man was a pain in the ass, but you knew where you stood with him," Petrio admitted. "He made the best of a bad deal. You had to respect that. This Himura? I don't know him. But what I do know - not so much in the way of confidence."

"No?" Harvey sounded actively interested.

"Clean record," Petrio explained, distinctly unhappy. "Not so much as a parking ticket. Hell, the man barely has a driver's license. Never been in a fight, even as a juvenile. Bookworm, pure and simple. About the only thing in his background that says he might have any knack for the job is the fact that the NYPD still remembers he's Deirdre Himura's son."

"Oh yeah?"

"Street cop. Died in a werewolf attack, about fourteen years ago," Petrio filled in. "Real mess."

Harvey flipped a page. "So the bottom line is, you don't think he can handle the job."

"Job, hell," DuBuccio grumbled. "I don't know if he's got the stamina it takes to survive getting Battousai pried off him!"

"Well, you can stop worrying about that, at least," a light British accent broke in.

Petrio looked up to meet Natasha Falconi's calm gaze as she walked into the library, sheathed blade in her hands, not liking the look in the sorceress' green eyes. He waited until she put Battousai down on another chair; the sword couldn't read minds it couldn't touch. "You can break it off him?"

Natasha put an arm around her husband, snuggling her head into his shoulder for a long minute's comfort. Breathed deep, and stepped away. "There's nothing left to break."

Petrio gave her a hard look. "Can't be that easy."

"It can be when there's nothing to be done." Natasha straightened her shoulders. "Ordinarily, Battousai is bound to an agent, yes? With conditions set by the agent, so the blade can't erase his soul. Not to mention the assistance of more than a few spells, so that both entities can be separated at need. Which means that Battousai's host is an enchanted human. An altered human, who looks like Kin and feeds like Kin when he must. But beneath it all, still human."

"I get the feeling I'm not going to like this," Petrio said dryly.

Natasha inclined her head. "Kenshin let Battousai in. No magic. No conditions. He simply trusted the blade not to destroy him."

"Damn," Harvey said, interest lighting his face.

"What the hell was he thinking?" Petrio burst out.

"That someone he cares about would die if he didn't act." Natasha smiled faintly. "Battousai is already shaping their shields, but one can still detect enough of his aura to see that love. It's so bright. Pure enough to touch even a cursed blade." She regarded her superior steadily. "Himura is not under enchantment, Petrio. He's Kin."

"Son of a-" Biting off an insult that would have had a Brooklyn native after his guts with a spoon, Petrio grabbed onto the scabbard. "Just what the hell were _you_ thinking?"

__

'That here, at last, was one who offered _instead of bartered at swords' point,'_ Battousai's ice chilled his thoughts. _'And that I wanted him very much.'_

"We had an agreement," Petrio said flatly.

__

'We had an arrangement in your agency's favor. You, and your predecessors before you, allowed me a limited touch of human minds; just enough to keep me from going mad within senseless steel. In return, I lent my hosts my strengths, my skills, my knowledge of Kin. I killed _for you.'_ Cold, so cold; like a gale out of the Great Lakes, whistling down skyscraper canyons. _'But I was meant to take a_ bearer, _not hosts. Kenshin is_ mine.'

Petrio shivered. But he'd never backed down from the worst the Kin could throw at him. He wasn't going to back down from one damn sword. "And what's he think about that?"

__

'He is wary of you.'

With good reason, damn it, if he'd read between the lines of Uramura's report right. Uramura took after tBuku too much; Petrio could slam all the reprimands into their files he wanted, but the control team leader, like New York's Field Ops commander, liked "hard option" first, and "soft option" only when he couldn't get to a Kin any other way.

__

'Your people threatened violence to both Yahiko and Kamiya-sensei,' Battousai agreed, following his thoughts. _'Kenshin will not easily forgive that. He_ cannot. _It is not in his nature. Not when he was human, and had but the fire of a hitokiri banked in his soul... and certainly not now.'_

"Assassin?" Petrio said blankly. He stared down the length of black lacquer, looking for suspicious cracks. "Somebody bang you out of alignment or something? I've read Himura's records. Far as they go. No juvie, no wants, no warrants; _Santa Maria_, he doesn't even have a _parking ticket_. This guy is a walking innocent bystander!"

__

'As his mother took great pains to teach him to be,' the sword reported matter-of-factly. _'Deirdre was a cop, DuBuccio. And a perceptive soul. She saw the fire in him early and moved to tame it. To teach him to_ care. _Had she lived longer, he might have followed her into the force.'_

Petrio frowned. "And you're telling me this because..."

__

'I know Target Alpha. If you cannot control who I bind to, you will try to control him who I have bound.' The chill was even as a clear winter dawn. _'That would not be wise.'_

"He _sells antiques!_"

__

'And very near that domain he holds, DuBuccio-san, Virus had an interest none of us yet understands. What else might we detect of their motives, if I remain there?'

Scowling, Petrio set the sword back down. "Well?" Harry asked.

Tersely, he reported the blade's thoughts. "Scary thing is, it makes sense."

"You believe Battousai is up to no good, I take it," Natasha observed.

"It's a Muramasa blade. We've had a good long truce. He's earned the benefit of the doubt. But. None of us has ever seen this thing loose. I gotta say I'm a little less than happy knowing it is." Petrio threw up his hands. "Hell with it. Anything I should know before I talk to the guy?"

"Well..." Natasha's eyes twinkled. "He's cute."

"Cute?" Petrio said blankly.

"Adorable," the sorceress clarified fondly. "You'll see."

__

Adorable? Petrio shook his head, heading for the workroom with Natasha giggling quietly behind him. _No way._ He'd seen Kin of every shape and size; ugly, attractive, plain, stunningly hideous, breathtakingly beautiful. All shaped by their creator's choice and their supernatural nature to attract their reckless or desperate human prey. No way, no how, would a Kin ever be-

"Oro?"

__

Cute. Petrio's mind stuck on the word, comparing it to small, almost girlish redhead sitting on the workroom bench, mussed black hair pillowed in his lap as his teenage brother snored away. _Oh, god._

"Boss," Sagara nodded. "There a problem?"

Petrio glanced at Sagara. Looked at the snoozing kid. Drew his gaze back up, almost against his will, to meet innocent violet eyes.

Walked back out of the workroom, and started banging his head against the wall.

* * *

"You sure you want me to do this?"

"Griswold," Sano sighed.

Chafing his arms in the chill washroom outside the morgue, Kenshin took yet another deep breath to calm himself. Sano had dropped by his apartment long enough to water his plants. Kaoru was teaching a kendo class with another sensei; Sagara had quipped it was a rare Kin who'd face down two dozen swords, wood or no wood. And Yahiko was only a room away. He'd tended every detail he could think of before facing the forces of New York's law and order... save one.

__

I really don't want to do this.

'But the idea was yours,' Battousai noted. _'And wise. The detectives know you were injured. Though I would you had not set me aside.'_

Kenshin's glance slid to where he'd set the saya aside on a shelf with Sano's jacket. _I don't want to risk repeating all of that night._

The thin M.E. rubbed the back of his dark crewcut nervously. "I mean, the whole reason werewolves don't Addict is 'cause we eat _pain_. Not something most people look for. Unless you get into the whips and chains crowd, and even then-"

"Griswold!" Sanosuke broke in. "Just bite him, already!"

"You asked for it," Griswold shrugged. And blurred into fur.

__

Slow for a werewolf - I could dodge, so easily-

Clutching courage to him, Kenshin stood his ground, flinging up his left arm to block as teeth snapped for his throat.

__

Darkness, and gunfire, and my gods what is _that-_

Fangs bit into flesh and bone; he rolled on the chill tiled floor under furry muscle, fighting off flashes of carpet, and fetid breath, and hate.

__

Terror. Blood. A sudden roughness in his grip-

"Griswold!" Sano was thumping fur between the ears with a heavy fist. "Damn it, that's enough!"

The werewolf snarled. Licked at seeping blood, green-gold eyes gleaming with hunger, ready to dig its fangs in deeper.

Kenshin dug his fingers into the fur of the wolf's neck, claws drawing blood. _"Enough."_

Bloodstained fangs halted. Reluctantly eased their grip, just enough for him to pull free.

__

Gods, it hurts...

'Hold on.' Pain echoed back to him through steel, mingled with remorse. _'Breathe.'_

Kenshin panted, letting Sano tug him to unsteady feet. Took a deep breath, and felt Sano back off. Stumbled to a sink, yanked on the water with his whole hand, and winced as the clear flow turned pink and crimson. All the while aware of a lupine form shifting reluctantly back to human behind him.

Steel snarled in his mind. _'We should-'_

No.

'But he-'

Followed his nature, Kenshin thought bluntly. _Griswold is Kin. For a moment, he forgot I wasn't prey._

'You forgive too easily.'

Griswold cleared his throat. "Hey. Um, I can help you with that."

Scaled warmth swept over Kenshin without warning, setting him gently aside. "_Don't_ come near me," Battousai said coolly.

"Come on, man, you're the one who-"

Amber glanced back.

Color swept out of Griswold's face as if someone had pulled out a plug. _"Battousai."_ Wild eyes beseeched Sano's. "But - he's not Ward-"

"Ward's dead," Sanosuke said tightly. "'Sai?"

"A minute." He finished washing out the wound, paying particular attention to the ragged lip of flesh where one canine had dug deep. He was Kin, it would heal cleanly enough... but for the next few hours, he would have to treat it as though he were human, or risk drawing more of the detectives' attention than he already had.

"Ugh." Sano leaned over his shoulder. "If that was me, you'd be hauling me in for stitches."

"You wouldn't heal this within a few hours." Battousai accepted gauze and bandages, wrapping the wound with skills he'd practiced on humans for over a century. "I am slowing the healing so much as I can, but we must see your detectives tonight." He fastened the last strip in place, and released his bearer's body. _'There.'_

Kenshin shuddered, feeling the pain crash back into his consciousness. But it was _his_ pain again. _Don't do that!_

'You... were hurt.' Warmth couldn't hide the ruthless edge of calculation; a werewolf who had lost control once might lose it again. And if Battousai had felt Griswold even twitch their way, he would have slit the werewolf's throat.

__

You would have killed him, using me! Kenshin thought, suddenly furious. _As if I were-_

'A sword?' Battousai asked softly.

__

I'm not-

'You are. _Kenshin. "Heart of Sword". You felt the pulse of my blade, and now your own heart beats to its time.'_ Gentle. Patient. Inhuman. _'What can I do, but protect my own heartbeat?'_

"Oh shit, I am so dead," Griswold was babbling. "Look, I didn't know! 'Cause if I'd known I never would have touched you, you got to believe me-"

"Stop," Kenshin said faintly. "Just... stop." He walked past Sano to the shelves, collecting Battousai. Relief swept him as the saya rested against his side once more. _Whole again._ "Let's go."

"Just remember to paste in 'weird psychos' for Kin," Sano advised in low tones as they walked up the echoing stairs. "Outside of that, tell 'em the truth."

Kenshin swallowed dryly. "Even about Jin-e?"

"Especially about him," Sanosuke said grimly. "He took Kaoru right off the street; I know they've got witnesses."

"Sano." Kenshin rubbed his temples, feeling a headache threaten. "I know you live with Kin and Crowleys day to day. But for once, if you would, try to look at events from the viewpoint of those of us who live with sane, solid, everyday worlds that do not admit to magic, vampires, or metallic Things that eat one's brain."

Sano glanced down at him, confused. "Huh?"

__

'Be a little blunter,' Battousai advised.

Kenshin glared up at the agent. "The truth makes me look like an insane swordsman!"

"Nah," Sano grinned. "Just a little... over-enthusiastic."

"Oro..."

"Hey, they're just cops," Sano said cheerfully. "Human cops. After this week, what could they possibly do to make your day any worse?"

* * *

"Kaoru." Miyauchi Maekawa gave her a worried look as they finished cleaning up the gym. "I didn't want to ask while the students were here, not if you didn't mention it yourself, but... are you all right?"

"Um, sure," Kaoru said faintly, one hand resting limply on the gym bag that held her gear and bokken. Her fellow instructor had been subtly hovering throughout class; the students might not have noticed, but Kaoru knew Maekawa-sensei had sensed her lack of focus. And now the students were gone, the gym no longer echoing with _kiai_, smacks of wood and bamboo on leather, and laughter. "Pretty much... sort of..."

"Because there were a pair of detectives here not an hour before you came," Maekawa said gravely. "I tried calling you afterwards, but all I got was your answering machine. I was so relieved when you walked in the door... can you imagine, they thought you'd been kidnapped by a murderer!"

"I- well-" Words died on her lips; Kaoru scrunched her eyes closed, fighting prickling tears.

Maekawa sighed. "Tell me."

Kaoru gulped. Shivered.

And it all spilled out; not a word about _Kin_ and _magic_, no, but the whole crazy mess of an assassin crossing paths with her student and her student's brother, ready and willing to destroy anything or anyone to get what he wanted.

And what he'd wanted was Kenshin.

__

Maekawa's a swordsman. If he _doesn't understand... I don't know who would._

"...And the agents took the body away, and I don't know what happened to it, and I don't _want_ to know..." Kaoru grabbed blindly for the tissues Maekawa brushed against her hand, blew her nose. Blinked. Forced a thought through a tear-fuzzed brain. "But if the detectives were looking for me, how did they find you?"

"They weren't exactly looking for you." Maekawa left her side a moment, came back with two pages of photocopied images. "They were looking for people who knew the New York kendo community."

__

Passport photos? Kaoru thought, scanning the first page; three photos and all the accompanying information of a small family heading for Ireland almost twenty years ago. She didn't know the names, and she definitely didn't know the redheaded Irish woman smiling at the camera, but her young son looked vaguely familiar. And her Japanese husband...

__

He looks... almost like Yahiko might, when he gets older. "Thomas Noguchi?" _Definitely a family resemblance. But it can't be, Yahiko says there just aren't any more of their family anywhere._

"Yes. I've been wondering for a long time what happened to the man. It's not like there are that many kendo practitioners around, especially with his level of skill. For one to just vanish, as he did - very, very odd. Though perhaps not unexpected, given certain rumors about his wife's... overseas relatives." Maekawa fingered his neat gray beard as he looked over the page. "Now check the next one."

The same people, a few years later. The same smiles, if edged with something... sad. But the names-

Kaoru blinked. Read again. Swallowed dryly.

__

"A Himura as a shopkeeper? Hah!"

Jin-e's sneer blazed in her mind, and Kaoru shuddered. She hadn't believed him. Even after she'd seen... that... she hadn't believed. Because she _knew_ when her students lied to her, and Yahiko didn't lie to her...

__

Unless he doesn't know.

"I'm sorry, I've got to go!"

Kaoru was halfway out the door before she realized she wasn't alone. "Sensei-"

"If you trust him, Kamiya, he's no murderer." Maekawa shrugged on his coat. "I knew Thomas' little boy, Kaoru. I want to see him."

"Um. That might be tricky..."

Just how tricky, she hadn't guessed until they were wending their way through the crowded bullpen of the Major Case squad. "Interrogation?" Kaoru fired at the older detective in blue shirt and suspenders holding her at arm's length. "Why? He didn't do anything - exactly - well, he was just helping me-" _Oh god, I'm just digging myself in deeper. Help!_

"Kaoru!" Yahiko hit her like a guided missile, Sagara slouching in his wake. "You're here!" He scowled up at Maekawa. "Who's he?"

"Yahiko, Agent Sagara, this is Miyauchi Maekawa," Kaoru introduced the gray-haired kendo instructor. "He teaches Chuetsu Ryu. Maekawa-sensei, this is my student, Yahiko Himura."

"Himura?" Maekawa said, startled. "But he's-"

"Thomas' son," Kaoru agreed. "Yes, I think so."

"You _think_ so?" Yahiko echoed in disbelief. "Kaoru, you've got to do something! They've been talking to Kenshin for hours-"

"Two hours," Sano corrected. "Don't sweat it."

"And _he_ keeps saying there's nothing to worry about!"

"These things take time, you little-" Sanosuke implored the ceiling. "Look. These are good cops. Your brother's innocent. He'll be fine."

"Sanosuke, you idiot-!" Kaoru's fingers strangled air, wishing it was a certain rooster-head's neck. "Tani's in organized crime!"

"No kidding?" the agent said wryly. "And here I was wondering where the illegal artworks, loads of bodyguards, and - oh, yeah! - slavering vicious attack dogs came in. You know we had to get that one Kenshin slashed tested for rabies? Man, am I glad that came back negative-"

"Yakuza! Which means New York underworld! Which means-" Kaoru stumbled to a verbal halt, suddenly aware she had no idea what it meant.

__

But Maekawa knows. And if he does-

"Easy, little missy." Sano held his hands out, placating. "Kenshin will be fine."

"So you don't know," Maekawa stepped in matter-of-factly.

"Know what?" Sano asked blankly. "Kaoru? Yahiko? Something you guys didn't tell me?"

* * *

__

Cool, calm, and collected, Detective Bobby Goren thought, standing to one side of the interrogation room, head tilted as he watched his partner grill Mr. Himura. Or try to. Alexandrea Eames had gone over the little redhead's story three times, from penthouse to that wild showdown in Central Park, never getting any more than the standard deviations of a witness retelling events. _And this after we left him in here an hour alone to get wound up._

It hadn't worked. Himura had sat for a few minutes, chafing his arms as if chilled; a common reaction in interviewees, even the innocent ones. Rose and paced the room once it was clear no one was immediately coming. Sighed, rubbing his bandaged arm, sat down - in a corner, not a chair-

And meditated. Quietly.

__

Not exactly your usual panicked homicide-in-self-defense case, Goren thought wryly. _Not at all._

Of course, there was a reason for that. Goren glanced at his partner, catching the faint note of real exasperation under her acting. _Now?_

Now, creased blonde brows agreed.

"Well, I guess that about covers it," Bobby broke in thoughtfully. "I've got to say, we really appreciate your candor. I mean, the middle of a homicide investigation, arson, kidnapping... not too many people would give us the straight details." He smiled.

Kenshin's answering smile didn't touch wary violet eyes.

__

No, you are definitely not an antiques dealer. Not anymore. Goren felt a surge of excitement. Puzzles drew any detective like fallen apples drew hornets, and Himura was one for the record books. "It's been a pleasure meeting you, Mr. Himura." He let a second slip by. "Or should I say, Mr. Noguchi?"

Violet blinked at him, speechless. "What?"

"Maybe this will refresh your memory." Eames shoved over their copy of the birth certificate. And the amended birth certificate.

"Shinta Noguchi... parents Eileen and Thomas Noguchi..." Himura read all the attached documentation, slowly growing paler and paler. "I don't understand."

"No, no, I think you do," Goren said thoughtfully. "I mean, you were - what, almost eight? Definitely old enough to wonder why your parents took you on one last trip to visit Eileen's relatives in Northern Ireland... and just never came back." He shrugged. "Well, not as the Noguchis, anyway."

"Hard to track down people gone that deep under," Eames said dryly, "but from what we could piece together, the Noguchis 'died' in Belfast. Rented curragh, overturned when a storm blew up in the bay. Whole family lost. A few pieces supposedly recovered later, only identifiable by some ID. Very neat."

"Three years later the Himuras show up in JFK International," Goren took up the tale. "Connor Dullahan makes a big deal about his long-lost niece showing up, she joins the force, your father takes over as assistant manager at _Wonderful Things_... and you wind up with a note in your file for remedial English help, since your family had just come out of the _Gaeltacht_. That's a part of Ireland the government supports in using Gaelic on an everyday basis," he added, "to preserve the cultural heritage-"

"I know what it is, that I do," Himura said tightly, accent wearing through his polite charm. "And you're wrong. You must be. False names... faked deaths... my parents weren't like that at all! My name is _Kenshin Himura_-"

"Which would be the point of the whole idea," Goren spread an empty hand, smiling. "Have a kid change cultures, change languages - he's so busy trying to fit himself back together, he never stops to think about what just happened. It's brilliant, really. I mean," the detective laughed, "who in the whole IRA would look for the FBI agent on top of their hit list in the middle of Gaelic Ireland?"

Kenshin stared at him.

__

Weird, Goren thought. _Red hair makes a bigger difference than I thought. From this angle, his eyes look almost blue..._

Himura's lips parted slightly, then firmed into a hard line. "I've _no_ idea what tale you're spinning, that I do not." His gaze went to Eames. "And even if this - _aisling_ of yours were true, what would any of that have to do with me?"

"Why don't you tell us." Eames spread out photos on the desk. "Marcus Weston."

Himura winced at the body sprawled on dingy stairs, neck at an impossible angle. "I remember."

"Also known as Marcus O'Phelan. And a couple of other names. Since you're convinced this is just a story, we don't need to bore you with the details. Let's just say that Japanese, Italian, Irish terrorist... dirty money all swirls to the bottom." The grim blonde leaned over the desk, almost in Himura's face. "There's no way he and his mercenary little pals firebombed you just because you knocked off one of Tani's _dogs_."

"Did they recognize you?" Goren pressed gently. "Is that why it happened?" He inched closer, adding to his partner's pressure.

"People like Marcus don't get second chances if they miss," Eames added. "Was that what this was?" Her lip curled in a sneer. "They finally got Noguchi, now they had to clean up the little brats that got away?"

"That was - my father died in an _accident_." Himura swallowed dryly. Shook his head. "I've told you what happened." He turned to Goren. "I've told you everything I know."

__

Something really wrong with the lights, Goren realized. _His eyes look almost... no, they_ are _amber._

And the odd fire was gone, swallowed up in steel-blue as Himura rose. "I'm going home, that I am."

Goren met that gaze, glanced at his partner so she stepped aside. "Don't go far."

"Damn it, we had him!" Eames burst out once the door was closed.

Goren gave her a raised eyebrow. "You think so?"

Eames pressed her lips into a tight line.

"That's what I thought," Goren said softly.

"He killed them, Bobby. You know it, and I know it."

"And he knows everything we have looks like self-defense," Goren pointed out. "And - you never know. It might even be that."

Eames raised _her_ eyebrow.

"Either way-" Goren shrugged, "-we're not going to crack him. Not here. Not this way."

Eames blew out a breath. Gave her partner a grudging nod. And snorted. "Antiques dealer, hell!"

* * *

__

It can't be true, Kenshin thought, slipping past detectives' eyes to the small break-room where Sano and Yahiko should be waiting. _Can't be._

But their ki hadn't felt like they were lying.

__

It's not true! I know who I am.

Donuts and bagels lay out on the folding table, one being slathered with cream cheese by a grumpy-looking African-American man whose gold-rimmed glasses and neat suit screamed government attorney. Of Yahiko and Sano, there was no sign.

__

They left me. An Mhaire, why did they leave me... Kenshin shook his head, trying to sink bits of Gaelic back into the darkness of forgetting. Three long years in green strangeness, surrounded by those who had never felt the pulse of busy streets, the hard bones of concrete and steel. Three years looking into faces that listened to his best attempts to speak his mother's ancestral tongue and heard only the words they treasured sullied by a half-breed outsider.

When he'd seen Idlewild under the wing as their plane circled, he'd cried.

__

Think, baka! They wouldn't leave you. They're just... not here...

He ghosted back out of the room, reaching out with his senses. Anger, exhaustion, the glittery slipperiness of madness; cops and criminals thronged the building, but there was no sign of the ki he knew.

__

'Sano would not go far.'

Kenshin bit back a snarl. _Oh, now you speak up?_

'I... did not know what to say.'

You could try, "They're lying", "This is crazy", "I know who you really are-"

'I do know who you are.' Battousai's tone held no compromise. _'You are_ Kenshin Himura. _My bearer. Yahiko's brother. Kaoru's friend. All else is past and done.'_

Turning in his visitor's ID, Kenshin swiped at his eyes. _It just hurts so much..._

'I know.'

Walking out onto the gray steps, Kenshin pushed aside the pain and reached out once more. _No, no... there!_

Sano. Kaoru. Yahiko. And someone else, who burned like banked embers.

__

'A swordsman,' Battousai murmured, as Kenshin stepped into plain view of the tall, gray-haired man in loose street clothes. A long gym bag like Kaoru's was over his shoulder, and the lumps within it hinted it too held a bokken. _'Do you know him?'_

I... don't know...

"Dear god." The gray-haired swordsman looked over Kenshin as if he were an apparition from moor mists. "That hair, that build... you _are_ Eileen's son."

"I don't know any Eileen!" Kenshin burst out. "My mother's name was Deirdre..."

"The sorrowful one," the older man said softly. "So she traded light for sorrow, and a chance for you both."

"Ease up, Maekawa," Sano said sharply. "We've had a bad couple of nights."

"So I've heard. I - what is it?"

"Maekawa-sensei?" Kenshin whispered, staring up. Though not nearly as far up as faint memory whispered he _should_ be. Darken gray hair to brown, change street clothes to the white and black of kendo tournament gear... he knew that face. Almost. "You've grown a mustache, that you have."

"Yes. I did." A broad smile stretching his face, Maekawa hugged him fiercely. "Good lord, young man, I've wondered for _years_ what happened to you-" Steel pressed against cloth, and the swordsman stiffened.

__

'Damn.'

"I can explain," Kenshin said hastily.

"Explain why you're carrying a sword? In broad daylight? Out of a police station? I would hope so!" Maekawa backed off, gesturing toward the hilt he'd felt. "Unless you're a lot more like your father than you look, someone's going to bring you in for-" His jaw dropped a moment, staring at what he obviously could not see. "Carrying concealed," Maekawa finished. "Well. I suppose that answers _that_."

"Wait a minute!" Kaoru broke in. "Are you telling us that-"

"Their dad-" Sano said, stunned.

"Dad could use his ki to hide things?" Yahiko jumped in, eyes shining. "Like Kenshin's doing? Could I do that? Whoa, that would be _so_ cool!"

"But he never said- I never saw-" Kenshin shook his head, bewildered. "I think we should take this somewhere more private, that we should."

"I don't have many photos," Maekawa said some time later, opening an old photo album as the motley group sat down around his kitchen table. "Your parents were very quiet people. Outwardly friendly enough, but if you looked hard... well, they simply seemed to skate away from public eyes. Understandable, I suppose. Given what they were doing."

Kaoru looked over the shot of tournament participants and families, fingers hovering over Thomas and his wife where they stood just on the edge of the picture, a young dark-haired boy clinging to his mother's jeans with wide violet eyes. "Just what were they doing?"

"Tracking money flows," Sano said bluntly. He glanced at Kenshin. "I called up Research after Maekawa dropped his bombshell. Once they had the right names, they were able to pull some stuff together." He waved at the picture. "Remember this was when bombs were going off all over Belfast. U.S. and Britain share a lot, intelligence-wise, but nobody wanted to bring up in public how much Irish-American money ended up in IRA coffers."

"So my parents-" Kenshin couldn't go on.

"Irish money was a sieve. Your parents snuck around plugging the holes. FBI has branches everywhere we have an embassy, and Eileen had relatives all over Northern Ireland," the Target Alpha agent stated. "Your parents could go from the Apple to London to Belfast to all over Ireland, and nobody thought much of it. At least, not for the first decade or so."

Kenshin swallowed. "And then?"

"Somebody did think of it. A lot," Sano said dryly. "As in gift-wrapped plastique on the ignition lot." He eyed Yahiko. "Your family's got a high degree of association with explosives, kid."

"Hey!"

"Says the guy who blew up his own apartment." Kaoru looked at the agent askance.

Sano dug fingers into already-wild hair, shrugged. "Anyway... somehow whoever it was missed. The report was pretty fuzzy on how, with a certain nasty slant on the fuzziness that says the agency got seriously suspicious of Agent Noguchi. Nobody could have known that bomb was there in time to get himself and his family the hell out of range." Sano paused. "Nobody ordinary, anyway."

"But Thomas wasn't ordinary," Maekawa observed.

"Something I'm guessing he did not want his superiors to know," Sano shot back. "Bottom line? He was under suspicion. A bunch of Eileen's relatives turned up threatened or beaten. And some of his contacts started turning up dead. Word was out that Noguchi _and his family_ were living on borrowed time."

"So to get out from under, he - died," Kaoru said haltingly. "Oh, Kenshin."

"It's all right, Miss Kaoru," Kenshin said softly, eyes still fixed on the photo. "How can one be hurt, when one cannot even recall the loss?" _That's me. That was my family. Thomas. Eileen. Shinta._

__

And... I don't even remember being Shinta...

He buried his face in his hands. He didn't want to look. It hurt.

"I don't know what you remember, but that's what it looks like happened," Sano nodded. "Now maybe you can explain what you mean by not ordinary, Mr. Maekawa. 'Cause I'm telling you, it's news to these kids."

Head in his hands, Kenshin couldn't help a snort of wry laughter. Kid? He was at least Sano's age. Probably older. Even if he didn't look it.

__

'You certainly don't look it now.' Battousai's amusement brushed him like a cool breeze. _'You can't avoid mirrors forever, you know.'_

"Thomas." Maekawa sighed. "Thomas was a mystery. I think he liked it that way. You could talk to him for hours and come away not knowing anything more about him than when you started. A Japanese-American who never admitted to knowing Japanese, except by the way he smiled at the jokes. A federal agent who laughed about being an armed accountant, chasing down rogue numbers, but who could vanish like a phantom. An excellent kendo practitioner who wouldn't let his son so much as pick up a shinai, and that truly got to me. I was actually rude enough to ask him about that, once, in private. And that's when he said something... rather odd."

Kenshin lifted his head.

"He said," Maekawa said carefully, "that any child with his grandfather's eyes was too dangerous to pick up a blade. Ever."

__

What? Kenshin thought, stunned.

__

'So he knew,' Battousai said thoughtfully. _'Your parents_ knew _you were hitokiri. Kami, no wonder they fled.'_

I don't understand!

'You would have tried to protect them. You would have killed _to protect them. And then, unless they were swift and careful and very, very lucky - you know what would have happened. Jails, counselors; psychiatrists who would see only a child who killed, and not the heart that could refrain from killing so long as those it loved remained safe.'_ The images slashed home like diamond knives. _'Those in power would have taken you from the only folk who could keep your blade sheathed. And you would have been lost.'_

"But our great-grandpa would have been Japanese, right?" Yahiko said, puzzled. "I mean, I think he was. Dad never talked about him..."

"I thought of that myself." Maekawa spread his hands, empty of answers. "I told you, the man was a puzzle."

__

I'm sick of puzzles! Kenshin thought fiercely. _I want answers!_

'They lie within you. Only reach out your hand...'

"Some outsiders, Europeans and Americans, naturalized into Japan by taking their Japanese wives' names," Kenshin said softly. Eyes not focused on the room, but elsewhere; an inn with white paper walls, where men with samurai topknots nudged and whispered to each other, glancing at a shadow with hair like blood. "It is not spoken of widely, but it has happened since the Black Ships came. And children there were before then, though _that_ was barely spoken of at all. Better to let folk think your children were of youkai blood than to admit they might be foreign, and outcast, and worthy of only exile or death." He blinked, taking in the odd look on Maekawa's face. "I... came across an old account of Japan, just before the Meiji Restoration."

"I see," said Maekawa, still puzzled. He squinted at the hilt resting against Kenshin's left shoulder. "Odd. When your father had his own sword out of sight, I could still see it if I looked hard enough. Now, I can _almost_ see a blur."

__

'Human ki wouldn't hide a non-magical blade as well,' Battousai said thoughtfully. _'Couple that with another swordsman actively looking...'_

"Dad had a sword?" Yahiko said faintly.

"He brought it to a cutting demonstration once, and I saw it, or didn't see it, several times afterward," Maekawa nodded. "I wish I had more answers for you, Yahiko. But between the form of his sword and the way he could just disappear, I was convinced your father was ninja. And asking too much about ninja is - unhealthy."

"The form of his sword?" Kaoru asked thoughtfully.

"Yes." Maekawa held out a hand. "If I could?"

Gingerly, Kenshin peeled back the skin of energy he felt distracting eyes from Battousai, laying the sheathed blade on the table.

The older man frowned. "That is _not_ your father's sword."

"It was recently passed to me." Kenshin weighed his options. Asked a silent question of the steel in his soul.

__

'Yes.'

"The police believe I picked up one of Tani's swords," Kenshin stated. "I didn't. This blade was in the keeping of Sano's partner, another agent assigned to protect Tani from Kurogasa. He died. I was ducking the bullets, a very angry canine decided I was a fitting target, and I... got lucky." Kenshin smiled weakly. "And now I'm told I can't get rid of it."

"Nope," Sano said matter-of-factly. "It's cursed."

Maekawa eyed them both. "Surely you're joking."

"Don't call me Shirley. And no." Sano leaned back in his chair. "Go ahead, take a look. It's not going to bite."

Maekawa gave the agent a sharp look. Hmphed, and turned back to Battousai. "Your father's blade was far shorter than this," he noted. "A kodachi, not a katana. Much more common among ninja, given that they might be carrying it across rivers and up walls. The quality of the steel was also a giveaway; not nearly as good as what you see in heirloom long swords. Though given his was a fairly modern sword, he probably got the best he could. Many of the ancient forging techniques were lost between Meiji and the aftermath of World War II, and they're only recently being rediscovered..." He loosened the blade enough to see an inch of patterned steel, and drew in a sharp breath. "May I?"

Kenshin nodded.

Stepping back from the table, Maekawa drew the sakabatou. Watched the play of light along dull and sharp steel. Made a few, careful passes, gauged to avoid walls and furniture.

__

'His grip is good,' Battousai said clinically. _'He knows how to extend his ki into steel. Though I doubt he realizes I feel off because he can't reach into mine.'_

Kenshin bit his lip. _Would you have rather-?_

'Maekawa fights with strength and courage, not speed and ki. He is the lion to our dragon.' A quiet laugh. _'And he already has a style. The habits I'd have to break him of!'_

"Beautiful," Maekawa said reverently, sheathing the blade once more. "If odd. The steel looks new, but the style is at least as old as Meiji. A reverse-blade sword?"

Sano's grin was all teeth. "A Muramasa."

Blood drained from the older swordsman's face. He swallowed dryly, carefully handing the sheathed blade back to Kenshin, though every line of his body shouted he wanted to fling steel from him. "Those are myths." He gestured at the hilt. "And even if they weren't, why would one of the most vicious sword-smiths who ever lived create a sword meant not to kill?"

"Because a dragon's fang asked him to," Kenshin answered, shreds of dream wandering behind his eyes. "At least, that's what the story with it says," he added quickly, recalling his listeners. "So, do you think the detectives were right, Sano? Would the IRA still be looking for us?" _Looking for me?_

"Doubtful," Sanosuke said frankly, picking up on the change in subject. "Almost twenty years? Anybody with a grudge against the Noguchis is probably dead or rotting in a cell somewhere. They're just trying to rattle you."

"It worked," Kenshin grumbled.

"Well don't let it." Sanosuke gave him a look that promised seven kinds of aggravated maiming if he _did_ let it. "They're good cops. They follow the law. But sad to say, the law really doesn't appreciate self-defense. I know and you know you did _exactly_ what you had to, to keep the three of you alive. But unless you keep up with the follow-through and stay cool, they'll toss you in a cell and chalk up one more perp off the streets." He clapped a hand on Kenshin's shoulder. "Just hang in there. You're doing good."

"Yes, well; this sounds like something I shouldn't be listening to," Maekawa said firmly. "Here. Let me see you to the door."

"But you were going to tell us more about our Dad!" Yahiko protested, moving at a firm look from his brother.

"Maybe another time."

The apartment door closed behind them like thunder.

"This sucks!" Yahiko glared at painted wood, half a thought away from kicking in the lower panel. "And you say he's a friend of yours?"

"He is," Kaoru insisted. "I don't know what's wrong!"

"He's frightened of Muramasas, that he is." Kenshin gave Sanosuke a wry look.

Chewing a toothpick, the agent gave them his best clueless look. "What?"

Thrusting the saya under his belt, Kenshin kept his gaze on the man.

"Well, they... don't really have a good rep. And most swordsmen who're really into it know that," Sanosuke admitted.

"Sano." Kenshin sighed.

"Hey, I was thinking of you, you idiot!" Glancing down the hall, Sano jerked his head toward the stairwell. "Come on."

Stairs echoed under three pairs of feet; Kenshin ghosted along in the midst of them, any sound he might make covered by the others.

Sano stopped on a mid-floor landing, waited until they all stepped on level. "Maekawa's good, right Missy? Master-level?"

"He wouldn't be teaching if he wasn't, Sanosuke," Kaoru said firmly.

Sano switched his gaze to Kenshin. "And what's a master swordsman want to do when he runs into somebody else who might be as good?"

"Challenge them," Kenshin realized, feeling the sure knowledge surface from steel.

"Right. Challenge you, which means challenging Battousai. And I _know_ you two haven't had enough time to practice slowing down." Sano swept them all with a sober look. "If Maekawa's that good, Battousai's reflexes - _Kenshin's_ reflexes - are going to treat it as a serious fight. That guy would be on the ground in seconds." Sano sighed. "And how the hell would you explain that?"

Kenshin let out a slow breath. "Thank you."

"Yeah. Well." Sano shrugged, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets. "I'm sorry, kid."

"It's not fair," Yahiko said faintly. "It's just not fair."

"Are you going to give up that easily?" Kaoru planted a fist on her hip.

"But - he-"

"Just because your brother can't go near him yet, doesn't mean we can't! I've got another training session with Maekawa-sensei in a week. There's no reason I can't bring one of my own students." Kaoru held out her other hand. "What do you say?"

Yahiko glanced at his brother.

Kenshin nodded, smiling.

"Heck, yeah!" Grinning, Yahiko slapped his palm against hers.

"Not quite what I had in mind," Kaoru muttered, shaking out her hand as the elated teen jumped and sauntered downstairs.

Sano rolled his eyes. "Missy, you could say that about this whole flaming week." Noticing a sudden absence of redhead, he headed after Kenshin. "Hey! Where you headed, anyway?"

"After Yahiko," Kenshin replied. "And then, to find Miss Kaoru's landlord." His lips quirked into a smile. "Better to move while Yahiko's in a good mood, that it is."

"Right. I'll just-"

"Come along and help," Kenshin said, tone silk over steel. "After all, you too need a place to spend the night, that you do."

"And you know I would," Sano said easily, "but I've got this appointment with the agency shrink-"

"Which you plan to avoid, two and three times at least, to go out and drink and gamble until you feel distanced enough from the blood and death to speak. Sano." Kenshin stopped mid-stair, forcing the taller man to halt. Calmed himself, ready to slip aside in his own mind. "Look at me."

"Look, Himura-"

"Look at me," Battousai said evenly.

Kaoru tensed. Sano frowned. "'Sai, don't. You _know_ that's dangerous-"

"He would risk it, even if the danger were ten times as great. He knows me, Sanosuke. And he knows you are my friend." Battousai held out a hand. "You have done your best by all of us. Do this one more, small thing. Let Kenshin hold you safe for a time. Let him, let _us_, be certain you sleep safe, and warm, and guarded from your enemies." A faint smile touched his lips. "We both know you have more than enough of those, _ne?_"

"Some best," Sano grumbled, looking away. "Almost got you killed, almost got myself killed-"

"We are alive, and our enemies have fled," Battousai noted. "I believe that is what you call Target Alpha rule #97?"

"There's rules?" Kaoru muttered.

"Some," Sano admitted. "Kind of unofficial. That one says... when the bad guys are dead, you win." The agent forced a rueful smile, taking the offered hand, claws and all. "Okay. Okay! Just back off, will you? I know Kenshin's one pretty tough guy, but you're making me nervous."

"Good," Kenshin said mischievously, swimming back to control in the wake of ghostly scales. "We'll need the help packing."

"Wha- packing? Hey, I never said I was going to do actual _work!_"

Laughing, Kenshin skipped out from under grasping hands.

* * *

__

'Are you certain you're ready for this?'

Standing on the roof of Kaoru's apartment building - now his as well - as night closed over New York, Kenshin let out a slow breath. Looked across the rooftop, where the sheathed sakabatou rested on a gym bag. Touched fingers to the two hilts by his side, trying to accustom himself to the deadly weight. _I'm never going to be ready. Let's do it._

'Start slowly. Grip first. These blades are not me.'

Kenshin gripped the katana hilt, noting the truth of that. Enchanted or not, this steel had no more life in it than its maker had given. It was willing in his hand, but it could not _help_ him find the right grip.

__

'So feel. Move your hand slightly, slightly... yes. There. Feel how the hilt nestles into your grip, where your thumb closes against your hand? That is what you want. Release. And grasp again. And release. And now!'

Iai, Kaoru called it. _Battou-jutsu_, in Battousai's ancient memories. A blurring song of steel that would have keened through an enemy's throat, shedding bloody rain before the foe even realized he had struck...

__

'Don't stop. Don't think. Move!'

Down and through. Whirling to catch an imagined blade on his own. Left-handed battou-jutsu, wakizashi striking for the gut, to spill blood and organs and agony. Moving, always moving.

__

Tonight, I dance with Death.

'Tonight, and always. She is ever with us; even if we only smile, and nod as she passes.'

I should be afraid...

'Does the falcon fear when it stoops? We are what we are.'

And even a falcon might kill its own kind. New York had seen that.

Darkness fell over the city, pin-pricked with all the myriad lights of a thousand skyscrapers. Kenshin kept moving, even as he sensed familiar, astonished ki. Finished the kata. Sheathed his blades, and looked up. "Sano."

"Every time I think I know what that looks like... well, I don't," Sanosuke admitted. Held up a blue thermos. "Hot drink?"

Kenshin caught the container, faint coppery scent telling him the contents before he opened it. "Thank you." _I think._

__

'Is it that much worse than eating meat?'

Eating steak in public doesn't usually have every cop in the area looking sideways at you. Kenshin sipped at thick crimson. Salty. A little gritty. And just slightly bitter, like a dusting of unsweetened chocolate. But it was warm, and rich, and soothing as coffee never could be. _How often do I-?_

'Every three days, at the least. Every two is better. And if you're hurt, as often as you can. I've never had a host die of the thirst, but beyond four days, we tend to get violent.'

Cap drained, Kenshin glanced up. "Marble dust?"

"Stephanopolis." Sano shrugged. "Not like you had any meat left in your fridge worth eating."

"Ah." A maedar butcher, making a relatively honest living in the Apple these past three years by selling animal prey to local medusae, then shattering the resulting stone corpses into flesh for Herd customers who were none the wiser. Target Alpha had looked into the situation, brought in some close-mouthed FDA personnel, and warned the Kin his products had better keep passing inspection. _Or else._ "And of course, you don't have a fridge left at all."

Sano shrugged shamelessly. "I helped you move yours."

Which had been one of the few pieces of their household electronics to survive, along with his home computer and Yahiko's CD player. Meaning he was going to have to take more time than he really wanted to hit an appliance store; apartments here didn't boast a laundry room, and his washer and dryer were now so much exploded Manhattan scrap metal.

__

'And what's wrong with asking Kaoru if you can use hers? Or Dr. Genzai,' Battousai added, before Kenshin could sputter a protest. _'Just make sure Sano pays his share of the groceries. He'd give you the shirt from his back if you needed it, but after so many years on the street, Sano simply_ won't _pay for things if he thinks someone else will.'_

And yet he'd brought a drink. Kenshin smiled wryly, touching memories new and familiar as worry-stones. "Bad week?"

"Oh yeah." Sano shook his head slowly, unwilling to go on.

__

'Same as always.' Battousai's amusement was tinged with regret. _'His soul is mortal, not unyielding steel.'_

"You miss Ward," Kenshin said softly, reading ki and memory and his own deep knowledge of loss. "You miss him, and you feel guilty that you didn't miss him before."

Sano's jaw worked. He said nothing.

"And it's worse than that," Kenshin went on. "You didn't like Ward. He didn't like _you_. He was a twenty-year agent; you were a punk Crowley off the street, working for Target Alpha because you've never fit on either side of the line, human _or_ Kin. The only things that kept you together were the missions, and Battousai. And that killed him - because when the chips were down, Battousai abandoned the mission to save _you_." Kenshin shook his head. "And you think it's your fault."

"Isn't it?" Sano's fists clenched. "He's a sword-spirit, Kenshin. He's not human. He's steel and magic and no damn heart at all. You _know_ that. He cares about me, and maybe you, and _maybe_ a few other people. The rest of the world can go to hell. You're the one who's got him in your head. You tell me. If this happens again, what the hell's going to happen to you?"

Kenshin smiled wryly, covering Battousai's agonized flinch. _It's the pain talking. Only the pain._ "Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"I am not a host, Sano. I _chose_ to take the blade. We may have... disagreements. But never would there be the struggle for control that led to Ward's death."

"And?" Sano demanded.

__

And. Yes, he would know there was an "and". Kenshin let out a quiet breath. _"Hitokiri wa hitokiri."_

Sano gaped at him. "Please tell me you're joking."

"No." Kenshin braced himself, accepting the truth bright steel had unsheathed. "I am not as Ward was, that I am not. I... do not have the instinct, that bids a normal soul to hesitate before blood is shed. Human, Kin - if it threatens one of mine, I _will_ stop it."

"Damn," Sano whispered.

"So your warning, however well meant, is - not needed. I know what a sword-spirit is." Kenshin gave him a painful smile. "I am one."

Silence. A breeze blew between them, skirling a scrap of newspaper, skittering it across the roof to lodge against the chain-link meant to prevent humans from wandering off into air.

"And I still want to be your friend," Kenshin said softly. "That I do."

Sano looked away. "When I saw Ward dead - all I could think about was finding that damn sword," he said in a rush, as if the words burned. "The guy who'd been counting on me to watch his back was dead, and the guy we were after was _gone_, and all I could think was, _my friend is missing_."

"You left the dead to care for the living," Kenshin said plainly. "Is that not what Ward would have wanted?"

Sano shook his head. "He hated Kin. And-" Deliberately, he shut up.

__

Face him, Kenshin thought.

__

'I can't.'

You must.

__

'He'll never understand!'

Try. Please.

Scales wrapped his soul, and Kenshin felt himself set aside. "He hated me, and I killed him," Battousai stated. "That is what you feel, is it not?"

Sano whirled. "'Sai, you know that's-"

"Kenshin may judge the danger, Sanosuke." The spirit narrowed amber eyes. "And you should pay more attention to your feelings. They guide you well."

Sano was shaking his head. "Don't say that, 'Sai, I know you wouldn't-"

"You know _nothing_ of the sort." Battousai touched one hilt by his side, letting all the lethality of steel shine in his gaze. "Blame me, then. So many lives weight my blade; one more will make little difference. Hate me, if you will; hate yourself for hating me, and caring for me, and choosing to stand at my side. Lose yourself in the darkness and forget the truth: I am magic, and magic _always_ has its cost." He turned to the wind, wishing he had the power some Elder Kin did, to call storms to echo the raging pain in his heart. "Yes, I killed him. I fought him for your life, and that battle distracted us both long enough to die. And I would do it again."

__

Rain, the spirit thought absently, feeling liquid run down his cheek. _Warm rain?_

But rain never carried such bitter salt.

"I'm gonna go down and see if Yahiko mugged the pizza guy," Sano said, tone too casual to be real. "HQ's got me on paperwork chases until I do see the shrink. So I guess they'll get me back in a week or so." He headed for the stairwell door. "You better let Kenshin have the body back soon."

"Soon enough," Battousai murmured to the closing door. "You can come out now, Kamiya-sensei."

Ki flared indignantly, then settled to low-grade worry as Kaoru came out from behind the shed. "I was just-"

"Watching," Battousai nodded. "As any who love swords would."

Kaoru bit her lip. "I didn't mean to hear-" she waved a hand toward the silent door, "-that."

A ghost of a smile shadowed his face. "I know."

Kaoru stepped closer; daringly close, for one who knew what he was. "You're crying."

__

Am I? He touched the warm salt, watching how night's glow glittered in the drops on his fingers. "He is my friend," Battousai said thickly. "He has been my friend for over a decade. And he still doesn't - understand..."

"I do."

Startled, he met her gaze.

Kaoru reddened, but didn't flinch. "Well, I think I do! Sano... he's a _guy_. I've seen lots of guys in my classes. He likes to compete. He likes to go out with the guys, have a beer, do a little friendly gambling, try to get pretty girls' phone numbers. And I'll bet anything he just loves to chase the bad guys. It's serious, he knows it's serious, but at the same time, it's all one big game. Right?"

Bemused, he nodded.

"But it's not a game," Kaoru said softly. "My father told me... even though we only use bokkens, even though we only fight in self-defense - _you never draw unless you're prepared to kill_."

__

'This is Kaoru?'

Strong and wise, Battousai agreed. _I admire your taste._

'Oro...'

"It's the only way." Kaoru shivered a little. "Even if you don't want to, even if you think you can just strike to disable and get away... if you have to take it that far, to use force to protect yourself, or someone else, then you've got to be sure that you _could_. You've _got_ to. You can't - go halfway..."

He put a cautious arm around her shoulders, ready to retreat if she flinched. But Kaoru leaned into him instead, breath catching in a hiccup. "'M sorry," she mumbled into his hair. "Don't wanna be scared. Not of you. You care. You're trying. Lot more than a lot of people do."

"Courage does not mean not being afraid, Kaoru-sensei."_ So brave._ "Courage is following the course your soul knows to be right, despite your fear." _So bright, shining like a star. She has seen death. She knows what it will cost her, to pick up a blade and defend herself. And she faces it, even now._

Daring, he kissed her cheek.

__

So beautiful.

But now he truly had overstayed his time. _Take care of her._

__

'Are you insane? _You can't just leave me in the middle of-'_

Snickering, Battousai retreated.

* * *

Kaoru felt the shift in the arms holding her, the touch of lips turned from warm to tentative on her cheek. "Um." Kenshin's breath tickled her ear. "I'm... hoping I'm not unwelcome, that I am."

A second kiss pressed against her cheek, and withdrew. Violet eyes searched hers, shy and hopeful.

__

Heavenly choir, no, Kaoru thought wryly. _Fireworks display, likewise no. Desire to melt helplessly into his grip, strip off his clothes with my teeth, and ravish him on the roof, uh-uh. Scratch the classic romantic symptoms._

But it was nice. Nice was a good start. She backed up an inch. "Did I hear Sano say something about pizza?"

"The ravening hordes requested it." Kenshin let go, shrugging slightly. "To tell the truth, the day we've had... I'm not up to cooking tonight, that I am not."

__

Mmm, pizza. Kaoru resisted the urge to lick her lips. "Is there enough for one more?"

Kenshin blinked, then smiled, and bowed formally. "Miss Kaoru. May I invite you to dinner?"

Kaoru grinned back. "You're on."

He laughed softly, walking across the roof to pick up the sakabatou. Straightened. And tensed.

"What...?" Kaoru froze, hearing something shiver through the noise of a New York night. Thin, shrill, prickling down her spine like spider-feet of ice-

"The _caoine_."

Kaoru jumped at the hand on her shoulder, warm where the night was suddenly chill. "The... what?"

"The death-keen. A banshee hunts tonight." Kenshin's face was sober. "It is not close enough to harm us, but if it prefers this territory to feed in... we'll need to get you and Yahiko cold-wrought iron to carry, that we will."

__

Cold iron. "They're everywhere, aren't they," Kaoru whispered. "All the monsters. All the nightmares..."

"They are." Kenshin searched her gaze. "But do you know what _their_ nightmares are, Miss Kaoru?" Gently, he squeezed her shoulder.

"No way!" she sputtered.

"Prey that is not afraid," Kenshin stated, amber glinting in violet. "Prey that lives with what the worst of them have forgotten: love, and honor, and the will to fight for your right to share the world."

Kaoru swallowed. That warm smile was doing funny things to her pulse. "You're going to do it, aren't you?"

"Oro?"

"You're going to help him." Fact. Bodies ended up in the Hudson. The Van Nuys was a traffic nightmare. Kenshin couldn't turn his back on a friend. No matter how weirdly that friend had been acquired.

"I..."

Kaoru raised her eyebrows.

"I want to," Kenshin admitted softly. "I know what Sanosuke will be facing. A human, alone; the perils are far too great." His arm clutched the saya more tightly. "But the shop - it is home. It should be enough for anyone. I do not seek violence, I do not _want_ to fight-"

Kaoru crossed her arms, giving him a look born of years spent measuring other martial artists across the dojo. "Yes, you do."

Kenshin blushed. "Miss Kaoru..."

She nibbled the inside of her lip. Keeping quiet, no matter how much she wanted to bash his head in until he admitted the truth.

"Virus was there," Kenshin said at last. "They took a place I thought was safe. Killed an innocent man. And we still do not know why." He met her gaze, sober and still. "And they know I am their enemy."

"You mean, Battousai is," Kaoru corrected.

"Virus will not care whose body they kill." His fists clenched. "They are one, Miss Kaoru. What one sees, all may see. And they saw me. By now they will know my name. My relatives. My last address. Anything, everything that may have been left unguarded on this city's computers."

Kaoru blanched. "Damn."

"Sano took steps to ensure we were protected as soon as he knew Battousai had bound me. There should be limits to the damage Virus may do us by electronic means. But if that protection is to continue..." Kenshin sighed. "Target Alpha does not devote their resources to civilians. Not for long."

The kendo teacher could almost feel steam shoot out of her ears. "That's blackmail!"

"It is," Kenshin said wryly, "Target Alpha's usual strategy when dealing with Kin." He brushed his fingers over her knuckles. "And Crowleys."

"But you've _got_ a job!"

"And now it seems I may have another." Kenshin gave her a wry smile. "I do not yet know what I'll do, Miss Kaoru; that I don't. I only know I must do something." He spread a hand. "And helping Sano seems the most likely way to find the extent of our danger, that it does."

"Good point," Kaoru admitted. She skewered him with a look. "But you're wrong about one thing, you idiot!"

"Oro?"

"_You_ didn't start this." She glared at the redhead. "And if you think you're going to be the only one helping Sano, you'd better think again!"

"Er... ah..."

"Now come on!" Kaoru grabbed a wrist and started dragging.

"Oro!"

"Sano, a teenager, and pizza," Kaoru pointed out, locking up his arm in one of her favorite come-along holds. "Let's go while there's still some left!"

* * *

The end... for now...

* * *

__

Hai - yes.  
_Iie_ - no.  
_Baka _- idiot.  
_Ne?_ - "Isn't that right?"

__

Aisling - dream-vision. (Gaelic)

Kin and Target Alpha slang:

__

Addict - some Kin's Drain is addictive. Vampires, Daemons, and Animates are particularly noted for this.  
_Animates_ - inanimate objects, usually humanoid, come to life. Think Frankenstein's Monster, Chucky, living scarecrows, the Swamp Thing.  
_Beeps_ - Blue Plate Special. AKA Herd.  
_Commune_ - a loose group of Kin who advocate peaceful coexistence with humans in general.  
_Complex_ - one of the many anti-human Kin groups, who would like to establish a new world order with Kin on top. Commune-Complex rumbles have been known to take down small buildings.  
_Crowley_ - a human who knows about Kin.  
_Daemons_ - shape-shifters whose ancestors escaped from dark dimensions centuries ago.  
_Drain_ - the ability to siphon off life-force. Most Kin must Drain weekly, or even nightly.  
_Edge_ - a supernatural power. Used as a noun or verb.  
_ENO_ - ExtraNatural Operative; Kin working for Target Alpha.  
_Hard option_ - Target Alpha blackmailing a Kin into working for them. "We know who you are. We know where you live. We know what you did." If they can't find evidence of an actual crime, they get creative.  
_Herd_ - human.  
_Inuit_ - flamboyant Kin, often Native American in origin, who can cause Madness.  
_Kin_ - supernatural creature.  
_Maedar_ - sort of a "sport" of medusa, usually male, with no snake hair, that turns stone back into flesh. The victim is still dead, though.  
_Soft option_ - Target Alpha asking for a Kin's help, usually "paid" for by clearing up case files of homicides and creating official identities for Kin who don't have them.  
_Sorcerer_ - formerly human magic-user turned Kin. Note that Target Alpha still considers them human, the evidence of Drain to the contrary.  
_Triborough_ - mixed Kin and human Target Alpha teams; DuBuccio's idea, meant to ease tensions between the two communities in New York.  
_Virus_ - think the Star Trek Borg, only less communicative. And slightly easier to kill. They appeared about two years ago; no one knows what they want, but everyone suspects it can't be good.  
_Witch_ - human magic-user, usually works in groups.

Various persons of note (from the NightLife books):

__

Golgotha - a powerful vampire Elder in the Commune. Runs Club AfterDark.

__

Petrio DuBuccio - Deputy Director, Target Alpha New York. Prefers soft option. Created Triborough. Often in trouble with his hard-line superiors for both of these.

__

James nGao tBuku - Commander, Field Operations, TA New York. Prefers hard option.

__

Harvey Falconi - Magical Research Consultant.

__

Natasha Falconi - ENO Liaison Officer, sorceress.

__

Target Alpha - from about 1906 on, the U.S. government's main agency in charge of handling Kin in the States. Depending on the situation, this may entail anything from "losing" suspicious autopsy reports to hunting down a careless Kin with silver, cold iron, and flame-throwers. In 1986 they wiped out every Kin existing in Boulder, Colorado in "a season long campaign of terrorism and murder". Though there hasn't been as much open violence in the past years, relations between Kin and the agency have been (ahem) nervous.


End file.
